This is all I've got.

Do you ever feel.. Empty? I don’t mean a hunger, or that mushy-gushy empty. More like.. Like something’s missing, but you don’t know what it is. Like... Like you want to do something – spectacular or not – anything, but you’re unsure what. Like you want to be creative, and do something great, or make something fantastic, even if you’re the only one that thinks it’s fantastic. Like you should do something... Inspiring. That’s the word. I constantly feel like that. Don’t you? Maybe it’s just me. But I get this feeling in the same place I feel pain, and happiness, and like I’m about to cry or hyperventilate. It’s strong, and it bothers me. It makes me feel like I need to be doing something, anything, that might make something better. I’ll be reading through quotes from favourite books or movies or authors or poets, or just quotes that make me feel, or I’ll see something, or I’ll think something. A memory, a thought, however fleeting... They can trigger that feeling. Or I’ll do those things once I’ve felt it, because I don’t know what else to do. I become

lost amidst that feeling, and it’s overwhelming. All I can do is feed it, and pretend that I’ve got something to give or share or create. I cry sometimes, too. I just become so overcome with emotion or whatever that feeling is, and I’m so lost and out of control that I cry. I cry because my words aren’t as beautiful as those that my heroes wrote, far from inspiring or even interesting. Yet it is my only real creative outlet, the only thing I can do that I have any pride in at all. And it’s subpar. I want to be able to allow that emptiness, that desire to do something inspiring, take over, and actually take me somewhere.

I want my words to mean something to someone, to be interesting enough to read, and beautiful enough to remember. I need them to be.

I don’t want to feel empty.

I want to be somebody.

I'm not doing so good today.

All I want to do is sleep.

I tend to not do so well when I'm awake.

Clear liquor and cloudy eyed,

too early to say goodnight.

"Where words fail, music speaks."

I don't know who first said those words, but they were right. Music is a way for human beings to express how they're feeling when they don't know how to explain it, or they're afraid to, or they truly believe a song is just better than any words they could ever say. One song in particular, whose lyric I used to title this post, is a song very recently chosen by a person very special to me.

"That song was the first one that made me think of you, like, automatically. So I want it to be our song. It makes me think of you and nothing can replace that."

That boy sort of makes me really happy. He's awkward, and a total geek, and apologizes often. He's got a mind that he believes is more "terrible" than mine, though I know he's wrong. He's an avid participant in Pokemon League, and he'd love to have six hundred dollars to blow on an action figure. And I happen to enjoy every piece of him. All the awkwardness, and the ultimate geekfest I know he is.

That old man is mine. He'll be a teacher, and I'll write books, and we'll find a home in Grand Marais, away from everything and everyone. We'll dress up like comic book characters, and he'll teach me how to play Pokemon and Resident Evil. He'll change me, and I'll change him, though both will go unacknowledged. Late night conversations about nothing and everything. Watching Big Bang Theory, Scrubs and How I Met Your Mother. Scott Pilgrim [imagine Patel and his awkward hand slide and shoulder shift when reading that] and Italian food.

It will happen. Because we want it to.

^ This made me think of him.

We may be completely different, but it works for us. He makes me happy. And I've been told I make him happy. That's enough for me [: ♥

That in nothing we trust..

Who knows the best time to enter a stressful situation? NOT ME. Because apparently I like to do these things immediately before a Surprise Sweet 16 party for my beautiful "daughter." I almost didn't go, because I was so.. Melancholic. I felt I'd ruin the party. We narrowly avoided that, by rectifying [nearly] everything before I left. There are still some loose ends that I feel terrible about.

When I think about relationships, and not just romantic relationships, I don't often think of what could go wrong. Sure, it crosses my mind, but I hate dwelling on it. I'm miserable enough as it is. I tend to adopt the "People are stupid, and people hurt" philosophy, because it's true. But also because I'm afraid. If I decide to over think how things could turn out, I push myself, and scare myself, and I run. I hide. Relationships scare me, to be completely frank. The intimacy present in even a friendship is frightening. So many people act like friendships are instant, that trust is instant, and that no matter what they do, they're always going to have someone there. Trust and friendship take time. And the trust that takes so long to build is so easily broken, that you don't always realize how exactly fragile and precious it is, until something happens. It's not always easy. Relationships, any form, are hard work. And you can't expect that person to always be there. Especially if you don't treat them right.
That trust thing? That's my issue. You want my trust? Earn it. It's no easy feat. I fear letting someone in, I fear judgement, rejection, abandonment. I suppose a lot of people do, though they all just group into: "I don't want to get hurt." Pain is a part of life though. I hate that I constantly contradict myself. I have all these beliefs when it comes to me, and my pain, my life, my issues, but I tend to overlook a lot of them, and uphold the beliefs I have for other people. I believe everyone is beautiful. But me. I understand that pain is normal, yet I guard myself against it.
At the end of the day, I just want honesty. If you can be honest with me, and keep the trend going, eventually I'll understand you're not lying to me and do not intend to, and that you aren't set out to hurt me. I'll open up. I just want honesty. I need it.

"We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy."
Walter Anderson

What do you want? What do you NEED?
Whoever you are:

Even the sun is jealous of the way YOU shine.

"Certain people enter our lives at the most random times, for the most beautiful reasons."

It's true. And I am so incredibly grateful that this woman is in my life, despite it being via the internet.
Hannah Gayle Wheatley is sixteen years old today. Did you know that? Sixteen years has this planet been graced with her presence. Me? I've only known her for two. And even then we weren't very close emotionally, and never have been close physically. Stupid distance.
2010 was the year our friendship grew, and I'm always going to remember that? Even if neither of us can remember the day. We went through a lot of crap together. Breakups, surgeries, fights, and our multiple mental issues (yeah, we're both crazy, you get used to it). But between all of the bad things were our matching toe nails, and paper bows; Letters in the trash can and matching bracelets with one still unmade [don't hate me]; and the deep talks that got us through the day and whatever we happened to be going through.
& Sometimes.. Sometimes we're too damn similar for our own goods.

She's beautiful. Inside and out. She's the girl who needs to help. You need to talk, or rant, or need some bloody advice? She's there. Even when it'd be healthier for her to decline, she helps. She astounds me.

"If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember: You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart, I'll always be with you."

I'm still sort of doped up, so I'm using some of my last awesomely fantastical wall post about this woman:

"She's beautiful, and she'd better know it. Music is her life, literally. Ask for a good song, she'll give you five. She hates pants and loves band. She's the light to his dark and obsessed with her friends. When she smiles her whole face lights up. And yeah, her heart's been broken.But you know what? She's got a passion for life that could rival that of some of the greatest artists in history, and she's happy, which is more than a lot of people can say these days.
She's my sister.
I'm unsure of the exact date, and I wish I wasn't, but I know 2010 was brilliant, if only because we became closer. I wish my memory was as strong as a vampire's. I wish I could remember every little detail of every conversation I've ever h...ad, not only with you, but with everyone.
We may not have been close for very long, but it feels like a lifetime? Your creeping skills are unmet by anyone, but you tend to rub off those tendencies on other people. I love our random creepy jaunts around Facebook, or Xanga. I love the quotes we find that remind us of each other, or random moments we've shared, or people we know. I love letting your boyfriend believe I want to shag you, even if it creeps you out. PAYBACK. [: I love our liquidy children and our screaming wars and awkward videos that we make for each other. I hate that we both have those moods, and that they enjoy taking place at the same time. But it's great that we still manage to help each other through them.
I know I get on your nerves sometimes, but you're my best friend. This whole distance thing may suck, but some things transcend time and space. I'll try not to post another emotional story on your wall after this, for a while, at least. We'll keep our love hidden.
By the way, I was going to say somewhere in there that you are the Banana [Hannah] to my Kitty [Tabie], but realized the obvious innuendo in that, and felt it was a little too inappropriate to use. Until now. Because it's got an explanation with it now."

‎"It’s the friend that stuck by you through everything that matters; the one that you have known your whole life, or just a year, and yet you feel connected to them in a completely different way than you do anyone else around you. At most times, they feel more like your family then your real one. They understand that the world can be a tough place, and they let you cry when bad things happen, but they always manage to make you smile again. It’s the friend that you call at 5am because you fought with some stupid boy and she helps you plot revenge against him even though she doesn’t even know him. They give you that extra energy to smile because you know that they’re right beside you whenever you need them."

You're an amazing person, Miss Wheatley. I can't even think of how different my life would be if I hadn't met you. I just know that I can't picture my life without you now, and if I were ever to lose you... Well, it'd top one of Shakespeare's plays, that's for damn sure. I know things have been crazy lately, but you'll get through this. Because you're you, and because you have so many people behind you.

Have a fantastic sixteenth year, sister. You deserve it, and so much more.

♥

This is our song. Love it.

& This is us.

Just close your eyes,

And go to sleep.

Escape.

Everyone's afraid of something. Be it an irrational fear, such as clowns or balloons, or the fear of a giant banana cream pie falling from the sky. They can be "simple" fears, like spiders or sharp objects, death. Or they can be more profound. For example, a lot of people are afraid to die. They can't tell you why they are, they just are. It might be a fear of an early death; of not having enough time to do what you want to do or go where you want to go. It could be the spontaneity of it; you don't know when it's going to happen, or how. You just know you're going to die. Because everyone dies.

Do you want to know what I'm afraid of? I'm afraid not of the dark, but of what it hides. I'm afraid of people. Because people are crazy, and confusing, and difficult to read. I'm afraid that I'm never going to leave this town, and see the people I love. I'm afraid to grow up, because it's difficult enough right now. I'm afraid of missing out, of not seeing or doing the things I want to. I'm afraid of not finding that one person that everyone talks too much about, that all my favourite novels depict; my Mr. Darcy. I'm afraid of the future. And the past. And everything in between.
I'm afraid of me. ME. Why? I don't know. Because I'm unstable. Because I know it's up to me to change the things that go wrong, but I can't seem to muster the courage, or the strength. I'm afraid of hurting more. Of not getting better. I'm afraid of me, because I can "make me or break me." I control my future, but I can't get a grip on the wheel.
I'm just afraid. I can't let fear control my life. Not completely. Fear can be good. Fear can push you to do the things you normally wouldn't do.

I'm afraid I won't be happy.

I can't be afraid to live.

But I am.

I lack the beauty you display.

"How are you?"

I don't like this question, at least when directed toward myself. I'm never too sure how to answer it. It could mean anything, really. "How are you feeling?" "How are you getting to work this morning?" "How are you painting the duck's arse with a pellet gun?" Everyone just interprets it as the first suggestion.
I wonder when people started dropping the extra word at the end of the question. And how it came about, exactly. Was someone just walking along one day when they happened upon someone the knew? And from there out began conversation, only to be interrupted at "How are you-" by someone emptying their chamber pot out the window, or by a horse relieving himself on this person's shoe. Once the commotion had subsided, the recognized person started up again with, "How am I? Well I suppose you mean 'How am I fairing?' Yes? Well, if you must know, my daughter has just run away with a TRADESMAN. Awful fellow. Quite the likes of which I've ne- Oh shite, I shan't be telling you this. The Misses will have a fit. Don't tell a soul."
You get my drift. It seems possible. Sometimes I wish to know what it would be like to live then. With the Bennetts of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, perhaps? Or with Jane Eyre, at her school, as wretched as the place was. I believe I would much prefer Longbo- I'm shutting up now. Where was I?

Sometimes I can answer those three words honestly. A simple "Good" or "Great" or "Bloody fantastic, actually." Sometimes these answers aren't so simple, and have quite a lovely story behind them. Other times, I'm just feeling uplifted for no reason whatsoever. On the other hand, it can be more difficult to respond. Be it because I honestly don't know the answer, because I'd rather not acknowledge it, or because I wish to not speak of it. Whatever the case may be, I end up feeling awkward, or defensive, or like I'm about to break. These moods can be for no reason as well. Just, out of the blue I feel miserable, or I felt like it when I woke up, or I've just had a bad day. However, they also can have a story behind them. No matter the reason, people are curious and nosy creatures, many of whom have no care for a person's privacy. I understand if you're simply curious, or genuinely concerned, but if I don't wish to tell you, then that's that. The matter should not be argued, unless I've hinted at wanting to talk about it. If I happen to not lie to you, upon hearing "How are you?" and being in an off state, then it tends to be for the sole purpose of NOT LYING. On the off chance I actually want to talk about it, I'll make it known. Everyone is so up themselves about being honest, yet when I do it on certain matters, I am berated. But then when I lie about how I'm feeling, and whoever I've lied to discovers the truth, they get brassed off again!

I don't even know anymore. Sometimes I am actually feeling fine, but then I get that.. Ominous feeling that something is going to do a 360 on me, and completely bugger up again. And it usually happens. It can be for the better, even though the experience is terrible. Or it's horrid all around. Other times, it's just crap. I won't even go there.
I think I've begun to lose the spark I had when I started writing this. I hate that. It just comes and goes as it pleases. That could really mess up my career.

Your mood is not based on the event or moment or what have you that has transpired, but on the way you view it. Your perspective.

I'd like to believe that more often. But I suppose when you've reached the stage I have, it's not as easy as it once was, eh?