Sunday, April 24, 2011

Happy fuckin' Easter.

Figures I've been blessed (hahahahahahaha) with good weather every year, and it has to be today of all days that I wake up to nothing but fog outside my window.

Fuck it. I'm staying inside.

I don't care how much my mother bitches at me. I am not leaving this room.

And in response to your last comment: I have no mirrors.

I threw the last one out months ago.


Saturday, April 23, 2011

When Was This?

Difficult to read. Copying it as best I can from the notebook I found it in.

April (illegible). Time: somewhere before nine pm.

We were on our way home from (illegible) when we hit a pothole and blew out our back tire. in the midle of nowhere. Inside car lights aren't working, so I'm writing by the light of the emergency flashers. Dad's going nuts and blaming society at irresponsible Americans. For a pothole in the middle of the road? Really!?
Admittedly a little scared. Road(?) we're on is right in the woods. Not many cars driving by, takes a good two minutes between seeing them. Dad is still bitching, this time about coyotes and foxes and other things that hunt in the woods at night.
At least I'm not alone.
Gotten quiet again. Dad's cell rang and made me jump. Still waiting on the AAA guys to get here. I wonder whose woods(words?) are these?
Just heard a (illegible) somewhere out there. I'm going in the car. It's dark. Can't write. Too afraid to keep sitting outside.
Dad made me get out of the car, something about drunk drivers hitting us. It's getting cold. Writing against a tree but i cant see what im writing. Hard to see much(?).
All things aside, it's a beautiful night. (illegible) lingering over the trees

9:21 pm.
Back on the road. Cant se.
Dad's flipping out again. Hell if i care about what. Probably his job again. Thank god for iPods.

My handwriting here is so bad even I can only barely read it. I can't remember what day this was and the date is too scribbled for me to tell. I don't even remember it happening. Not really.

My father immigrated from Iran thirty years ago. He's a US citizen now, but he loves finding things that he hates about the government, the economy, etc. etc. I personally just think he's a crabby old man who needs to find a girlfriend. If my parents were still together I probably would've....done something drastic by now.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Good Friday

What's so good about it. We're celebrating the day that a man was nailed to a cross for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change. Forgive me if I'm offending anyone with my agnostic ways. I don't have much faith in anything.

Yesterday's hike was largely uneventful, though I think I caught a cold in the process. The little bit of countryside and forest that we saw was nice. I think the most interesting part of the trail was seeing all the graffiti, though. Someone had scribbled all over the picnic table we sat at for lunch: "All your base are belong to us", "Serj Tankian FTW", and "why do they always send the poor?" stood out particularly. Whoever had been there before must've been huge System of a Down fans. Along one of the bridges someone had also spraypainted the last lines from Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening".

But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

Why do I feel like this should speak to me so much.

Part of me wishes that we could've gone farther down the trail. We never truly reached the woods...no, not really. We were close, though. I could tell. I stared down that path so many times on our journey that I could see them. Something about still being able to see the houses through that thin covering of trees just ruined it.

They were calling to me. My name, whispered harshly on the wind.

I didn't answer.

Should I have?

I'm confused. Sickly. I should still be asleep.

Away with ye, spirits, for thou shalt bring me torture only.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011


Not in much of a mood to update, but then again, when am I? I've barely a cheery post on this thing. I only seem to want to post when I'm bored out of my skull or emotionally unstable. Whenever I want to bitch about something or decry the unfairness of the world and hell why can't it just be the way I want it all the time and never change. Fat lazy elitist overemotional teenage bitch that I am.

Spring break. Nothing to do. Getting dragged around by my parents left and right. I haven't seen any of my friends since I left school on Friday (excepting the tennis match yesterday, but that doesn't really count, we were all so busy getting ready for the matches; my mom took me home immediately afterward too, so I never got a chance to talk to anyone). Thank god the counselor planned that trip for Thursday, otherwise I don't know what I would do. We're going to be going hiking along this trail a few towns north of here. It's amazing. Seventeen miles; and though we won't be going the whole way, we'll at least be going more than the quarter-mile my parents can tolerate. Maybe someday I'll walk the entire thing. That would be amazing. The counselor's also planning to pack a picnic lunch to have somewhere along the way. Tennis match at three, then we're going out for pizza for dinner, then to a poetry slam later that night. This is all going to be in one day, too. Not since convention have I been so excited to get the fuck away from my family.

I would never tell them, oh god no, but....I feel like they're part of the reason why I feel so grounded. I'm constantly dreaming up places I want to go, things I want to do; but money or personal issues always get in the way. Everything I want to do, it has to be with my family. They hold me down. I need to be out, be free. I'm not going to spend my whole life holed up in the house. I'm not going to be a doctor or a mathematician or a physicist or, god forbid, a philosopher. No more Sartre or Kant or Nietzsche once I'm grown, oh no. I'm going places. I'm going to see the world. And I will not let them stop me. I'd like to see them fucking try.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Seeing Through.

First off, I'd like to say I'm honored to finally have followers. Makes me feel...well, acknowledged.

Now, to my main point today. This is for the Anons that constantly stalk my blog for openings to make "witty" comments and copypaste literary quotes when it seems appropriate.

Cut it the fuck out.

I accepted your existence. I played your little game. Then I asked nicely for you to leave me be. Then I asked in a not-so-nice manner. And now you've decided to take it to the next level? Really? Which of you smartasses got my address, hm? I figured at least one of you is someone I know. My friends are the only ones that know about my blog and none of them, as far as I know, have bothered to look at it. Unless, by deduction, one of you trolls is a friend. Or all of you. Like, for example, and darling I'm NOT singling you out.

Mr. or Miss Operator-Symbol Spammer. Yeah, I'm talking to you.

You think I'm naive. You think I don't know what you're trying to do. Well, hun, you're making it PAINFULLY obvious. And it's not working in the least. Perhaps it's you, Lorraine. And I swear to god if it is I will tattoo the damn things to your eyelids when we go back to school. With a spork.

Also. "One ghost down, more soon?" If I may, everyone around me is very much alive. You don't scare me, nyah nyah nyahnyah nyah.

Now, to Modus Operandi. I like the touch you add to your comments. They've actually become fun to read and research, nerd that I am. But you should use your copypasting talents for something more productive. Trying to spook me with your existential ramblings is like fighting fire with fire. Seems like a good idea at first, until you realize you've just fueled the flames.

You were entertaining for a few minutes when no one read this. You've outstayed your welcome. Now move along.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

No Mood For Thinking of Titles

Sorry about the minor freak-out I had in the last post. I'm not really sure what came over me. Having a bad morning, probably. I still haven't been getting much sleep, and it seems my mother's begun to notice. She's threatening to take my laptop away if I don't go to bed when I'm supposed to. She thinks that's all I do when I get home, chat with friends online. She doesn't realize how time-consuming all this IB homework is. She also doesn't seem to understand that I have no friends. Well, not compared to the friends she has, or the friends my brother has. All of my closest friends left after middle school ended and went to different high schools as me; some of them don't even talk to me anymore because they think their school is better than mine. Granted, it is. If only the 20- IB students in my school could be transported somewhere nicer than that inner-city dumping ground. All my other "friends" aren't very close; I don't see them outside of school, we don't hang out. I really only have one friend I can really call a friend.

Lately I've been really worried about her. She's had....problems for a long time--as long as I've known her, in fact. I can't really talk about it. She's been going to counseling for a while and it seemed she had finally gotten better. This last week, though, has made me reconsider. As little sleep as I've been getting, she's gotten even less; she's even told me she went an entire night without sleeping. She doesn't look like she's been eating lately, either. She's constantly gazing out the window. No one seems to notice. She gets her work done and her grades are on par with, if not better than, mine. But since the beginning of middle school when I first met her she was the only person who ever really "gets" me. That, or she just politely listens to all my insane ramblings and cynical points of view and my weird philosophical questions that can't seem to be answered by anyone and has never complained. Regardless, she's always kinda been there for me, and I really admire her for putting up with my bullshit for so many years.

If this keeps going I might go back to the adjustment counselor for a talk. I dont' want anything to happen.

My own counseling kind-of fell through. She never called my mother. I'm keeping up with the stress-relief exercises, but they're not doing much. Maybe if I just do what I'm supposed to everything will be okay.


Monday, April 11, 2011


Slept horribly again.

Don't wanna go to school.

Don't wanna.

Chinese essay three hundred characters Math IA falling behind in history biology homework is too difficult tennis match today loser LOSERLOSERLOSER im gonna lose english essay four hundred words NO EXIT THE OUTSIDER how they are siimilar gottta take a shower gotta clean my room eat sleepsleepsleepeytoosleepydontwanna go.

Don't make me go.

I should be there by now.

Friday, April 8, 2011


Saturday, April the Second. 2 pm.

Yesterday started off terrifically. Granted, the opening ceremony and state caucases were boring as all Hell; too much sitting and standing and clapping and sitting some more. But the rave was amazingly fun, More fun than I'd had in a very long time.

Like it matters anymore.

The dance ended at 11:30. My friend was complaining of a headache, so she left a little earlier. It was way too hot in the ballroom. A bunch of kids were wandering outside. The hotel has this "green roof", with grass and stone paths and this beautiful gazebo. It was nice.

We decided to follow suit.

I don't know what it could have been. The adrenaline rush, the overtiredness, the caffeine. Evidently no one else saw besides me, so I must have been hallucinating.

There was someone standing at the gazebo. In business attire. Which at this conference wasn't something uncommon to see. There were teenagers running around in suits everywhere.

Then we got closer.

He....he didn't have a face.

Then I blinked and he was gone. Just like that.

I didn't make a scene. I didn't scream or run. I was seeing things. Shivers up my spine, maybe, and the others were kinda poking me and asking what I was staring at. I didn't bother looking back.

Slept soundly, woke up in the morning with a killer stomachache that went away after coffee and Munchkins. Had fun at the panels, good lunch. Decided to take a nap instead of going to the next round of caucases. Other friends are off doing whatever-the-fuck, one is at her IB English presentation.

I'm alone in the hotel room.

I can see the green roof from the window. No one out there now. It looks really nice in the aftenoon sunlight. Decided to wreak a little havok and threw an Operator symbol out the window just for the lulz. Can't wait to see where it ends up.

Comfy here.

Gonna take a nap now.

Journal entry from last weekend. Make sense of it as you will, with your "pseudo-philosophical bullshit". Couldn't've said it better myself.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011


Was going to be explaining to you what happened over the weekend., because, well, something weird happened on Friday night, and it hasn't quite stopped bothering me yet. But something happened to me today that scared me even more. However, I won't be explaining either of those today. I'm far too tired. Barely gotten any sleep since last week. Bitte, meine rastlose Geister, try to understand.

Away for now. G'night.

Friday, April 1, 2011


Today's the day. I'm off to the convention. Can't wait. Not much time to post this, gotta go to school in a few minutes.

Probably won't be on the computer at all this weekend, unless I can get ahold of one of the hotel's public computers, which is unlikely. I'll be writing in my journal the whole time, though, and will probably post my writings at the end of the weekend when I get home. Pray we have no homework today. PleaseohpleaseohpleasealmightyIBteachershavemercyonyourlowlystudent.

Might take my camera with me. This is going to be AWESOME.

Peace OUT, muthafuckas, the public awaits. <3