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Wakey wakey, little one.
Time to rise and greet the sun.
Come on, get up, day's begun.
You have to try, you must see.
You've got to do it for me!
Life doesn't always come free.
Try your best; that's all you've got.
Though your luck might not be hot.
You must live, or you will rot.
Go on, little one.
I just wrote that right now. It's weird, but it's my note to me. Get the ******** up and get on with it. Little one. That's such a silly name to call myself. Nothing about me is little. But it's what I sometimes call myself.
I wouldn't call her my invisible friend, but when I need to puzzle things out, I talk to Claire, a girl who never existed and never will. She pokes me in the head when I need it. lol. I can't help but wonder why I even invented her in the 1st place. But she can always be there! She calls me little one when I get confused with simple matters.
Of course, then there's the poem I wrote about an invisible little boy, my invisible little boy. He has no name. I couldn't think of one. But he was my darling child in 8th grade. When things were tough, I imagined I had to take care of him and couldn't be sad in front of him, but I couldn't fake being happy. So I'd stop being sad. In my poem, I call him my little one. Perhaps this is to him, as well.
Sometimes I can almost feel someone resting his or her head on my shoulder. It feels like there's really someone there. "No one's there" That's the truth of the matter. No one is near me. Sometimes I feel a touch on my cheek as well. It confuses me, since I can remember something like that happening. But I don't know. If anything like it happened, it was during one of the fuzzy times in my life. Kindergarten, 3rd grade, SAS, and 9th grade. They're all one fuzzy blur.
I have very specific memories from each, but only a few. The rest is hazy. Of all of them, SAS and kindergarten are the most clear. 3rd grade was just one of those years. I remember feeling lost when the boys didn't want to play tag like we used to. I remember playing Sailor Moon with Brandy, and I remember going to the Contemporary Art Museum for the 2nd time, but the rest is gone. I don't even remember how I met Kyle. He wasn't even in my class. He was in the other class, not Ms. Stapp's class. 9th grade was a nightmare. I think I may have blocked it out. I remember some things, but I wonder if some of those memories are dreams or nightmares, figments of my over-active imagination. November, December, January, February.... They're not quite there. I remember the snow, I remember Whitney's party, I remember the QB tournament on that same day, I remember sitting in my room, trying to make bracelets, trying to follow the instructions and having so much difficulty. Erin liked hers, I remember that. It was purple and red, well, I think the other color was red. But I can't seperate the rest of it at all. My cheek burns in that one spot, and I don't understand it.
Oh, lol, I totally forgot what happened when Brit was over. See, I fell asleep with my glasses on. YEs, stupid me, always forgetting to take off the glasses. Well, I woke up, opened my eyes, and see Brit's hands about five inches from my face. So I closed them agian like "oh man, tell me this is a nightmare." Then she took my glasses off. She scared me. I thought she was going to do something to scare me, knowing her as well as I do. She'd do that, wake me up in the middle of the night as a practical joke. Thankully, she didn't.
I have felt so sick this week. Monday morning, I threw up my breakfst after brushing my teeth. Ugh. Still went to work, did fine. Tuesday, I was okay. Bored, but okay. Wendsday was okay, but I felt a little queasy and I had a horrible headache. People say you should listen to your heart, but in this case, I should have listened to my head. I couldn't sleep that night. Thursday, I was exhausted, and there was something in my nachos, so I barely ate lunch. And then I couldn't sleep again. Friday, I was so tired I could have dropped to the floor. Instead, I had to fan-fold coffee filters for 2nd grade boys and stick them through the plastic bug bodies as wings. Then, I got to count books, then set up the stuff for 5th grade. Ate after that, then the 5th grade comes in 20 minutes early. Katie and I were like, okay, what's going on here? Then Ms. Rosie came in and was almost yelling at them. Apparently, one of the devils in this group, and they really are a horrible group, wrote something about hating the camp, using some bad words in there, in chalk on the basketball court at the placce where they go swimming. No one would confess. They missed all of art + part of their Snoball time.
I think I know who did it. There were these 3 boys who were all swimming together, but not with anyone else, apparently. I think they might have. Or it was Grace. But if it had been her, one of the girls would have told on her. All of the girls would have found out, but she did get in trouble last week for telling people to hate another girl. I think it was one of the boys. There were several people involved. Finally, they let them go, but they're on "camp watch," whatever that means.
Ah, tomorrow. Sunday. Joy. Church + CCRNO. Maybe I'll see Chris and/or Corey. CCRNO with Erin. Woohoo. Yes, let's go and praise and worship God. I like it and all, but come on. It is a little awkward to stand there while everyone is singing because you don't know the words. I don't have the time, or apparently the friends, to have a freaking life. And I keep getting dragged into stuff like this. Plus, it's just one thing too many. The best part is Timmy. He's a 23/24 year old idiot, a funny idiot. Timmy in a box! Jesus in a book! lol, you couldn't keep Timmy in a box for anything. He'd go crazy and die. Someone says he looks like those painting of Jesus, his hair and all. they're right, he looks just like those paintings. Only crazier.
I don't like to hear other people talk about their plans. I've said this before. The summer is supposed to be my BREAK from that stuff. I can't ask the whole school to not talk about their plans. I can't ask the A twins, either. They make me want to SCREAM! They're so juvenile! They listen to Simple Plan and other whiney-baby, depressing stuff so they don't appear as the stuck-up bitches with easy lives that they are. They think by listening to the stuff that complains about how the singer is all alone and has no one and is so deprived by the world makes THEM that type of preson. They're not. Amal can get whatever she wants with few limits. She wants a brand new 5gig IPod, she's gonna get that 5gig IPod. She bosses her mother around and is rude to her entire family. She yells at her sisters! Ashley acts like her life is SO dramatic dramallama Yea, so you can't go out with your friends Sunday night because you have to study for exams. She shouldn't be going out on a school night anyway! She needs that study time for Spanish and English, trust me. All either of them wants to do is party all the time. This is those two: dramallama dramallama YEa, they totally based the emote off the A twins. lol
lol, actually, my buddy icon, I forgot what was on it. I just put it up to get a reaction. Yep, I do stuff like that. I just want to see what happens. That's how I ended up where I am.
Actually, when I went back to my normal internet activities (i.e. TekTekking, posting on threads, and messing around with my profile on MySpace) I put ITunes on random, and that was the first song. lol. Then I thought "hey, it says what i want to say, in a weird way." I'm not broken, but even if I were, no one would try to fix me. It would be like trying to put a 5,000 piece puzzle together with 1,000 of the pieces missing. Difficult, if not nearly impossible.
Oh well, time to go. I have to contemplate how I'm going to survive the 1st 3 months of school. Everyone's going to want to know where Erin is. They think I'm the expert. The expert on math, science, other people (whether I'm friends with them or not), and all sorts of stuff. I almost wanted to scream after months of questions questions questions. Sadly, I had all the answers. Do me one favor: if you ever leave DHS again, tell someone what the hell is going on and tell me who that person is so I can direct all questions to whoever has the info.
"Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?"
~nepie
 nepie · Sun Jul 09, 2006 @ 02:03am · 0 Comments |
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