You shouldn’t fall in love because you never know whether or not he wants to get into your pants or if they want to get into your mind and heart instead.
You shouldn’t fall in love because when you think you have it all, the light at the end of the tunnel closes and you’re stuck wondering why he left.
You shouldn’t fall in love because it’s like falling into a never ending abyss. Once you’re in it, the exit is almost impossible to find and you’re sucked into an inevitable torture.
You shouldn’t fall in love because no one else will understand. No one else will understand the happiness and laughter he brings into your life and they will never be able to surpass that.
You shouldn’t fall in love because it hurts. Especially when he falls in love with someone else.
You shouldn’t fall in love because all the sudden the world around you seems less important and he becomes the ice water on a hot day.
You shouldn’t fall in love because when he’s gone, he’ll turn cruel and say things you thought he’d never say.
You shouldn’t fall in love because when he leaves, the one who was most important to you becomes a memory and soon you won’t remember their middle name.
You shouldn’t fall in love because you share everything and let him in completely only to be exposed to everyone and he becomes just a random person who knows your darkest secret.
Most importantly, you shouldn’t fall in love because you should.
I am beyond behind in my blogs (I apologize Mr. Durham). My life has honestly been so hectic lately its not even funny, but only in the last month. That wasn’t an excuse, it was just me complaining.
Then last night I got asked to prom. Not our prom, one in Dallas, Texas (I’m going to MHS prom and this one). So my cousin’s friend needed a date so of course I wouldn’t want someone to not have a date to their first prom so I said yes. I’ve only had one conversation with this dude and I feel like it is gonna be awkward because this guy is very awkward. I’m usually the type that always has something to say and can make things not awkward but it gets annoying when your the absolute only one who is talking in the conversation. I mean I do like talking to myself but not when someone else should be responding to me. Anyways, he asked me over face time because he can’t exactly come all the way to STL just to ask me. It was actually super cute and super sweet. He set up a bunch of red solo cups with the sign that read “Don’t make me go solo! Prom?”. It was cute and I’m super excited. I have a dress but their school is very very conservative and idk if my dress fits the dress code! And at their school, sparkly extravagant dresses are a big thing and mine is sold salmon with no designs or anything. I’m not about the sparkly over the top Texas dresses. No thank you. But all in all I’m pretty excited because its prom and I am able to get to go to two this year!
Okay that was rant/me talking about life #1!
So I just got back from taking the ACT and I kid you not, my brain actually hurts. Like I think it has temporarily shrunk. I took it with the writing portion and I have never seen an essay formatted like that. I am used to AP Lang style writing and that was not it, so I’m really scared that I wrote it wrong and I’m gonna get a 12. On the pre-ACT, I got like a 25 so I think I should get around there which is good for the first time right?
I’m literally sitting in my bed right now contemplating my entire future. Which I really should not be doing because no matter what my ACT score is, as long as its above a 22, I will get into the college I want to go to. I am currently looking at KU (Kansas University) and the University of Arkansas. My sister is a current student at the University and my twin brother wants to attend there as well so I’m not really sure if I want to go there. I kinda want to embark on my own journey and venture away from my siblings for once. I know that if we all end up there we won’t see each other much so it won’t be a problem, but still, I want to do my own thing.
Both schools require at least a 22 and I have really high acceptance rate so I shouldn’t be worried, but I am. I’m just being my cynical worrisome self per usual.
Anyways, now I am coming up with a way to call in sick to work because I put my two weeks in and I don’t want to go to my last shift since it is until 11 at night. No thank you. That is the reason I quit in the first place. I’ll probably blog about my job, well ex-job now, a little bit later!
Apologies are weird. It is a two word phrase that is expected to fix everything someone has done to you. The thing that people don’t realize is how quickly the apologies can add up, and before you know it “I’m Sorry” becomes transparent and undetectable. I feel like I am always the only one who ever apologizes. Every time I try to stand up for myself or speak my mind, I always end up being forced to say how sorry I am in order for the friendship to be saved. I should not have to have that sort of pressure put on me. For me, once trust is broken I can honestly say that it will never be put back. Ever. No matter who it is or what they did, when trust is broken its gone.
Trust to me is like a piece of paper. You can crumple it up and tear it, but you can straighten it back and tape it back together. The thing is, no matter how hard you try to straighten it or tape it back up, it will never go back to how it was before it was ruined. You can pretend it is and continue to write on it but at the end of the day, it is not how it used to be. That is the sad part of it all. You can forgive someone for something, but it will always be in the back of your mind for the rest of your relationship. If it was enough for a trust to be broken, it is enough for you to think about for a while and enough for you to change how you feel about someone. After all, if you can’t trust someone, then what is the point of even talking to them? Oh thats right, there isn’t.
Hey, if you have not caught on yet I am catching up on all my blogs because I am a slacker but I also need good grades so hey.
There are a number of things that make me the happiest but a few are very prominent parts in my life.
I honestly do not think I would be mentally stable if it was not for writing. I write every night before bed and now every morning in Creative Writing. Sometimes I do not and I end up being super crabby. To be able to write anything I want and know only I will see it, or those who do will not judge me, is an immediate pain reliever. It is the same as any anti-depressant, actually it is even better. Writing is a whole new world for me. I can write whatever I want, whenever I want, using whatever tone I want. In a way, when I am upset or mad and I write in my journal about what is bugging me, I can legit feel a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. Almost as if I longer have to worry about it and the journal does the worrying for me.
I also do not know where I would be without cooking, well more baking. As all of you in my creative writing hour may know I bake a lot and like to bring it to school for my friends to eat. My mom calls it “stress baking”. My family knows that if I come home from school and go straight to the kitchen that i have had a pretty shitty day and to leave me alone until I am finished baking whatever dish I have created. The funny thing about me is that I hate eating what I bake. I don’t like cake and I don’t like sweets that much. I guess the fun for me is the actual baking part and seeing others eat it.
Anyways, those are pretty much the two things that make me the happiest!
Okay, so for the past week and a half I have been dying. Not literally, but you guys I am so sick. I cannot miss school though because I am trying to get my GPA up so I have to suck it up and come to a disgusting building pull of germs and smelly people. Every time I touch anything I can feel myself getting sicker. To make matters worst I have the ACT on Saturday and I am going to be sniffling all test. I apologize in advance if anyone reading this is in my room. I have gone through like 800 tissues in the past 3 days and now it has developed to my throat. As I sit here in the writing center, everything hurts. Every time I talk my throat feels like a thousand knives stabbing me in the trachea. I want my bed. I have taken so much DayQuil and it literally does nothing. I think it makes me worse. I always get sick the week of school dances, and last week was that time for me. I hear pink eye is going around and that scares me because pink eye is actually repulsive. Also the flu is going around. At the University of Arkansas, where my older sister attends, 20% of students have the flu. That is over 5,000 students. Here at Marquette, the flu has been infecting a bunch of innocent students. My best friend was staying with me a few weekends ago and we had to take her to the hospital because her flu was so bad. She literally could not walk and we had to lift her into a car. Everyone thought she was sick from a hangover but she did not even drink the night before so we realized something was seriously wrong. She started throwing up and screaming in pain. It was so scary, but she is fine now. Anyways, back to my illness, I think I just have a sinus infection because it 100% not the flu. I do not throw up or get sick like that. I always get sinus infections or bad cold. Knock on wood though. So if everyone could pray for me (btw I am not religious that was just be typing a cliche but that is another story) so that I do not collapse and die in the middle of the ACT that would be spectacular.
Besides writing many pages of thoughts into a journal daily, Molly is always doing something. Whether that be jumping off a cliff, pulling pranks on innocent strangers, or confronting her enemies, Molly is always looking for adventure. She spends hours in the kitchen creating the newest and tastiest treats for all of her friends and enjoys making other people as happy as she is. Born into a family from the South, kindness has come easy as well as boldness. Not only is “Stay Weird” her favorite quote, it is her motto.
Do you ever get that feeling in your stomach after you discover something you did not want to know? It almost feels like someone twists your intestines and implanted a million butterflies into them (you’re welcome for the visual). Everything around you, no matter what you may be doing, becomes less intriguing and you want nothing more than to be alone in your bed with a box of tissues. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sucks. ASS.
What I will never understand is how much control someone can have over another. It is just words so why do I even care? That person can change the way you like food, the way you enjoy your friends company or even the way you act.
Why do I let him have that much control over me when he does not even give a shit about my feelings or about me in general. He does not even understand what he has put me through, basically because he doesn’t care. Either he is genuinely dumb or he doesn’t care. Over the last few month he has been playing mind game after mind game. I’m not saying I don’t because I do, but his are cruel. I guess that what comes along with talking to a douche bag. They tend to mess with girls and enjoy the chase, but not the actual catch. The funny thing is, I knew it all along and let him string me along like the idiot he makes me feel like.
Two days ago I finally snapped. I went off on him and explained how sick and tired I am of the constant bullshit drama and bullshit in general. I no longer speak to him and honestly I am so much happier and so much less stressed. Especially since I no longer have to deal with her. The jealously evil her. So bye!
I remember how much it hurt,
BOOM! The metal curled.
I remember how loud it was.
As I lay on the concrete,
I look to my left and then to my right.
I was surrounded by a twinkle,
other than the stars.
These twinkles were sharp,
painted with drops of red.
I remember a high pitched whine,
sounding equivalent to an arrest.
This time the criminal is not me,
It was Jack Daniels.
I did not consume it,
because I do not like it,
but we paid the price.
The pile of metal in front of me,
Told me where she was.
The scraps told me she was no longer here,
my own flesh and blood.
I could not cry not scream,
I just lay in an orange stillness.
Then I saw a bright light,
and someone saying “Stay with me”.
I did not even ask where she was.
I’m sorry, Mom.
I should have been more careful.
I’m sorry I did not see,
how badly he was swerving.
Now, I must get dressed up in plastic,
gonna shake hands with the masses.
They act like they knew her,
even better than me.
Now we walk to a museum,
filled with different size concrete stones.
Row after row,
lined with every color imaginable.
It tasted like tears,
and reeked of guilt.
Then they lower her down.
Instead of apologizing to my mom,
the driver must now apologize to her.
but up there.
Hands locked and restrained
by a reflective chain.
Terrified by the vigilant talk
Hidden from others,
apparent to those close.
I am held hostage by them,
and tortured by the expectation.
A never ending out lived image,
the earthquake never subsides.
Stained with translucence,
and stained with fear.
Obsessed with the feeling,
addicted to the chain.
The reflective chain.