Day In Hell

If I seem absent for a while after this post, it’s because I probably died.

I hope to post every day, just to give myself motivation to finish all of my homework and studying, and it’s going to be so stressful that I may perish from a brain aneurysm. You know how those things are. Maybe this blog will keep me alive. One surefire way to express myself without causing problems. (Someone woudl have to come looking for trouble and if they WANT it, I’ll GIVE it to them.)

At this point, I’m just so freaking overwhelmed. I feel like I SHOULD be doing something when I’m not, like I should FIND something to do if I’m not doing anything. It doesn’t help that all of the PEOPLe at this school drive me bonkers. There’s one, however, and seeing him in between classes keeps me sustained. Until the end of the day, and by then I’m freaking homicidal.

It also doesn’t help that I’m confused. I don’t know what I should do, if I should DO anything. Do I sit around and wait for something to happen, or do I just go out and get it, damn it? And if I make that decision, then what? I JUST DON’T KNOW. I don’t know if I should make the PRACTICAL decision or if I should go with what I truly want. The practical decision would tide me over until the end of the year, because, if I work at it, then I’m set. What I want is a little trickier. I don’t know, first of all, how to get it. And if I do get it, I sure as hell want to keep it. But how?

So, this all equates to me zoning out on my friends and thinking to myself that relationships really aren’t worth it.

Fettuccine Al-dead-o

The afterlife has been somewhat of a concern for me.  Especially since the past few weeks have found me relentlessly questioning my faith.  For the longest time, I had always just taken for granted what everyone told me to believe.  And that’s what it has been all of my life.  People say, “God exists, and you must believe in him.”  Because I was young and impressionable, I did. However, now that I discovered the ever nifty “thinking for yourself” application in my brain, I wonder if I really, truly believe that.  And I don’t know.

We don’t go to church.  Even when we did go to church, I absolutely loathed it.  I had to get up early on Sundays, I had to wear a dress and tights and uncomfortable shoes, and getting ready for church usually put my parents in a really bad mood.  The last time I actually went to church (outside of the going with friends on Sundays before they take me home) was probably when I was ten years old, or somewhere around there.  And I have not really regretted it.  I don’t think that, fifty years from now, that I will say, “Damn.  I really wish I had gone to church more…”  However, I think church may have helped me on my way to the conclusion of what my faith actually was.  When I say that I don’t go to church, I get these hilarious looks that are like, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME???”  My friend and I have talked about this quite a bit.  People, nowadays, believe, not in God’s salvation, but in the salvation that church provides them.  They think that attending church will save their immortal souls.  They think that going to church makes you a good person.  I’m not going to be the one to tell them that going to church is supposed to help you understand–it’s not going to help you ensure your position in heaven, not if you rely on it completely to erase the sins you committed that week.

My friend made an excellent point when we were talking about Catholicism.  “Church is a rehab for sinners, nor a gathering place for saints.”  And that’s how some Catholics view things.  Not all of them, but many of them do.  My father’s family is Catholic, he was raised Catholic, but now, he’s not.  My family “believes” as my mom says.  She doesn’t understand why you have to go to church to be able to call yourself a Christian.  But it isn’t like I exactly want to call myself a Christian, because some of the “Christian” behavior is questionable.  The protesting of a gay man’s funeral is the worst thing I have heard in a while.  It’s appalling to me, that those people call themselves Christians.  That’s very Christian behavior.  People constantly say, “What would Jesus do?”  I can tell you that he wouldn’t do THAT.  That’s fine if you don’t agree with their lifestyle, but that’s none of your business.  Forgiveness is the greatest tool that we have.

So, in all of this that I am saying, none of this has helped me in my search for something to believe.  What’s going to happen to me when I die?  I absolutely refuse that after this life there is nothing.  There’s no possible freaking way I went through all the shit I went through for it all to be OVER.  Just over.  However, I don’t want reincarnation or immortality.  Me and Taylor were talking about that and Futurama came up in conversation.  Bender said ”If I found out I had to live another life, I’d kill myself right now.”  It makes me smile.  I am still on my search for what’s on the other side of this life, because I’m not sure.  But people are helping me find my way, so maybe I’ll be okay. 

I just want to know that when I am fettuccine al-dead-o, or basting the formaldehyde turkey, that there is something waiting for me on the other side.  I know there is, but the specifics are eluding me.  So, now starts my search.  I’ll let you know how it goes.    

Don’t Let It Get You Down

Today went by rather fast.  It involved a lot of crying and laughing and conversation between old friends and the forging of new ones.  Yearbook day is always like this for me.  I spent it with Rachel, my bffl, of course, because she is now on yearbook staff.  And Yearbook Adviser didn’t get too angry.  Yearbook day is something I look forward to all year, no matter how much I complain about the stress yearbook sometimes causes.  I feel really calm, like all is right in my world at the moment.

Even though I know next week brings hard decisions and a hell of a boring time.  It means hanging out in the yearbook room all the time, which I love doing anyway.  I need to pack that fridge with some Dr. Pepper, while I’m thinking about it, because I know I’ll forget.  Funny thing is, I can write “streams of consciousness” on my blog without effort, but my teacher tells us to write like that and I look at my paper like it’s an alien from Mars.  It’s dumb. 

I’m trying not to let it get me down.  There are so many people telling me so many things and trying to pull me in so many different directions.  It’s almost like white noise.  I just want to sit down and scream, “Now, hold up a freaking second!…What did you say?” Because I’m confused.  I can’t handle so many different opinions.  I just can’t weight things.  It’s one of my flaws.  Speaking of flaws, I forgot to tell someone something…I was watching a show the other day and someone said something that was so utterly true that it floored me:

“You like someone for their good qualities.
But you love them for their faults.”

But, in my case, the faults of the one I love are too much for this fifteen year old heart to take.  So, like I said, big decisions next week.  Quick post today, because I won’t have time for a while.  Enjoy life, and don’t let the world get you down.

Freelance and In Love

This week has been incredibly hectic and hard to deal with.  However, to top everything off, I have had a wonderful Friday in which I have achieved something I have been working towards for the past nine months.  I have worked past all the horrible half-relationships and the crushes I think I had for the sake of having something to distract me from him.  And now I am dating this him of which I speak.  Daniel and I are finally dating.

I have changed my name from curbxstomp.  That is a past life, and with this first post, I am starting something new, some place for me to be me, without having to assume a name.  I am Kaelie, a rebellatrix, and I am happy.  The word rebellatrix means “renewed war” and I am waging war on the things that opress anyone who is a striving artist–or anyone really.  No one deserves to be oppressed.  I am ready to be free and now this name is going to allow it.  Does that make any sense?  No, but it’ll make itself evident.

I am now freelance.  This blog has drifted from being created for a class to being the chronicle of the life of the normal student in my words.  Everything is fair play, everyone is fair play (up to a point), and now people can read it.  This is all to my mentor, because I want her to know that I understand–maybe not completely, but I know, and this blog is my weapon.  I am truly psyched about this.  Know why?  

Because now I can do what I want. 

Fix You

So my personal posts have been on the minimum lately, because…well, because there’s really been so much bothering me that to post about all of it would take years–and it’s only happened in a matter of days.  Time feels as if it is passing by sluggishly–like Father Time decided to take a couple Loritabs like the rest of American society to dull the pain of a dull life.  It’s so tiring that when I get home, I just lay down and close my eyes and hope everything goes away.  I thought I would be happier now that I’m working on a relationship.  Now, I think the relationship is making me more miserable.

There is this one guy.  I’m not dating him, I don’t even know if he calls me his friend, but he is utterfly amazing.  He is the opposite of everything I have ever been drawn to in my whole life.  I am usually drawn to the bad boys, and while he has a certain air of “bad boy” he’s not a druggie, nor does he feel the need to break the law.  He’s actually an athlete, a swimmer to be precise and he is…He’s really nice to me, he talks to me, and sometimes he’ll call me out when I say something that makes me seem blond, but he never, ever makes me feel stupid, which is something even my best friends make me feel.  I think he is perfect.  I think that, if we dated, I would be happier than I ever was.  He’s sort of blond…I don’t think he can technically be called blond–it’s more of a honey brown.  He listens to a lot of the same music, which starts a lot of conversations.  He also reads!  Yeah!  I know!  Me, like someone who’s actually literate?  Amazing.  He’s read The Stand of all things, which even I can’t get through.

He sits in front of me in my English class, and when I talk to him, I think time should just stop for us.  He probably doesn’t even think of me in passing during the day, but, you know what, I’m okay with that.  He’s just so…ah!  I can’t even describe it.  It’s one of those you-have-no-words-for-it-it’s-so-amazing.  It’s unspeakable.  It’s like someone lit a fire in my stomach and poured gasoline on it.  I don’t hate him, like I hate most the people I’m attracted.  I just think it’s a safe admiration from a safe distance…although, it’s like less than two feet away.  Who knows if he does maybe care just a tiny bit?  I dated his friend for a few months, so he’s known about me for a really, really long time.

He just seems like the one who might be able to fix me, put me back together.  My friend told me he was horrible in relationships, but that doesn’t matter.  My friend isn’t trying to put himself back together.

When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
~ Coldplay “Fix You”

An Unexcused Absence

I’ve been gone awhile.  On account of having a pretty sucky one half of the month.  I’ve been so miserable that I just don’t get on to blog because I thought I might kill the computer.  Right now, I’m trying to keep myself calm so I don’t start crying.

I have had a pretty hard time.  All that goes on in my house nowadays is yelling, screaming, or crying.  All that goes on at school is uncomfortable silences and dirty glances.  All that happens in my classes is a secluded loneliness in the back of glass, my nose shoved into a paper or a book, trying to drown myself in school work so I don’t think about what my problems are.

I do have to say that my writing has become exceedingly better.  My characters have depth, my story has substance, and it’s completely satisfactory, if I do say so myself.  I tried to use my characters to keep my mind occupied and away from everything.  I got almost 20 pages in two days.  It’s been pretty amazing to be able to write again, like a weight has been lifted.  

You know how bad it gets when I start reading only Meg  Cabot books.  Yep, I have resigned myself to teen novels written by Meg Cabot.  She has to be the most amazing writer in the history in forever.  She surpasses all the other writers I read, because it feels like Meg Cabot has been there forever…

I just wanted to use this last paragraph to wish the troops luck, and to let them know I’m praying for them. 

Have a good night, y’all. 

Selective Apologies, Reclusive Goodbyes

Listening to Panic! At the Disco’s “Build God, Then We’ll Talk” while writing this.  I feel horrible.  I’m tired, frustrated, my throat hurts from yelling, and my body aches.  It doesn’t get much worse than this.

No one really apologizes with sincerity anymore.  It’s forced words and a strange look when you finish.  We pick what we apologize for.  What will hurt our ego most?  Apologizing or not apologizing?  That’s the question and that’s what decides it.  We also apologize for our opinions alot, because nowadays, your opinions can endanger your life, your relationships, even your job.

I’ve moved around a lot.  I went to three different schools in less than two years, and then I got into high school, so that’s four schools in a year and a half.  I have been in the same school for two years and it’s pretty amazing, because I have friends, I have routines, and I love the house I live in.  There’s only one thing that hasn’t changed:

I still have to say goodbye.

Daniel told me that “People don’t see someone again because they choose to.  You are not forced to never see someone again.”

Partially true.  It also depends on lifestyle, but I truly believe once he’s gone, he’s gone and I’ll never speak to him again.  I may try to keep up with him, but when one person’s doing all the work, is it really worth trying to keep the relationship alive?

Mixed Tape

I am currently working on Daniel’s mix, trying to decide which order I should put everything in.  The first song is “Mixed Tape” by Jack’s Mannequin, and I hope he likes it, because if he doesn’t I’ll feel bad.  *grins* I doubt he’ll hate it thought–or at least he won’t tell me.

I literally ripped apart my library today trying to find good stuff for his mix.  I’m really indecisive about it, because some of the stuff I want to put on there probably isn’t something he’s going to like.  I know some of the music that he listens to and it’s a little bit different from his.  He hate’s a lot of the stuff I listen to, but what one of my guy friends doesn’t?  I put “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers on there for him, and that’s only one that I know for sure he’ll actually like–we had a long discussion about it.

I need to be writing my novel right now, but at the moment, I’m content to be writing about the little things that make my life mine.  Making mixes for example.  I love making mixes.  The only part I don’t like is ripping the song to the computer and burning it to a cd.  Takes FOREVER.  But, when all is said and done, I have fun doing so, because if there’s one thing I love more than reading and writing, it’s introducing people to the music I listen to.  It’s just a good feeling.  Music makes everything better. 

Speaking of making everything better, I need to take Excederin, because my head’s killing me.  I need to start wearing my glasses, because I read for several hours straight on the weekends.  Par example, I spent two hours reading Neil Gaimain’s The Sand Man: Volume 4, The Seasons of Mist.  Although, the headache may be from the paint fumes that I was around while painting shutters today.  I’ll get over it.

Character development coming along for the modern rewrite of Tarot Cards right now.  Ramxpage and I are collaborating on cover ideas.  It’s not going to be very easy.  Once we have sketches and the final designs, I will of course post them.  My friend suggested self publishing, so maybe that way I can choose what the cover looks like.  My character has taken on aspects of my behavior of late, and she’s become really annoying.  To William at least.  I love it.  I’m going to go edit and rewrite now.  Bye! 

Talk About PMS

I bought so much food today at lunch it is insane.  I am like two days away from my period and I’m going crazy.  It really explains the moodswings. Anyway, time to talk about my life…

I think my blog is boring.  I don’t do the cool picture thing everyone else does on like a weekly basis. When I need to represent a feeling I can’t put into words, I’ll put a picture up.  But other than that, it’s not happening.  Andrew calls this my “rant page” as if the blog is all one page.  (He knows nothing of blogs.)

Moving on.  Being in love isn’t as bad as it has been all year.  Still in love with the guy who is completely blind, according to my favorite hamster.  Whatever.  The year’s almost over, so it’ll probably be over then.  I pray that it won’t, but it will, because having confidence in the keeping in touch thing is really difficult.  I am trying to focus my doting attention upon my new love, William, the character of my book that is currently in the stage of rewrite!

Rewriting isn’t as hard as writing the book was in the first place, so that’s all good.  It’s easier to write it like it’s in the twenty-first century instead of in the nineteenth.  It’s a two hundred year difference.  My characters are a little more believable, because I have no idea how they talked back then, so there are no contractions throughout the novel.  (I mean the don’t, can’t shouldn’t, not the birth ones.)  Plus, I can make William look exactly how I want him:  tattoos and piercings, wherever I want them.  (Hah! You’re sick if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking.)

So, I was sitting on my bed the other day, minding my own business, reading my Batman comic book when I realized, life really isn’t as difficult as people make it out to be.  I mean, it’s difficult in varying levels for varying people, but my life is fairly simple.  If I did my homework every so often, I could probably be class valedictorian.  Our class valedictorian has a teacher for  a parent, so they expect alot more.  My parents just expect me to the best I can.  I have a 4.2 doing absolutely nothing.  If I tried, it’d be a lot higher than that, but I have aspirations outside of doing homework seven hours a day. 

My weekend will be spent doing a research paper, and what little homework I want to do, while reading Michael Crichton’s Timeline, which is an amazing book.  I don’t really like male writers.  I have three exceptions:  Michael Crichton, John Grisham, and The Struggling Writer.

I hope all of you have a fabulous weekend, if I don’t post again until Monday, which is really probable, because I’ll be rewriting!  Here’s a picture for you to think about:

 

Aren’t they beautiful?

 

I Said I Love You, Isn’t That Enough?

Just because someone tells you that they love you DOES NOT mean that they do.  Unless they are one of those “Love thy neighbor” types, then maybe, but generally, when an athiest tells you that they love you, they are not doing it because religion dictates it.

I know a few people that expect me to believe everything that comes out of their mouth, including the once sacred phrase of, “I love you.”  I tried explaining to people that I am not naive when it comes to guys, because honestly, I know a guy who will do absolutely anything to get into a girl’s pants.  It’s actually kind of painful to watch–and experience–, but whatever.  When I see the things going on around me, I become wary of the world.

(Like, this weekend, I was watching Law & Order: SVU for a few hours and it kind of made me scared to go outside.)

I don’t believe everything people tell me.  Unless you are a really good friend, teacher, or Rachel Ramxpage, who doesn’t count as a friend anymore–she’s moved to the long lost sister role.  I think people expect “I love you” to make a difference in how you feel about them.  It may make you reciprocate the phrase, if only in words, not feeling.

Which is why I don’t want to get married.  With all the problems you have nowadays.  I would be the girl who believes a guy after years of not trusting guys.  Then, I would get married.  A couple years later, I’d probably pop out a couple of kids and then BAM!  He’s filing for divorce with his pretty new arm piece smiling dumbly at the court hearings. 

Maybe that’s what I fear. Not so much having children, but the part where I get ditched because I’m getting old.  It actually haunts me, that thought.  I had a conversation with one of my friends and he was appalled at me when I asked, “What if no one wants to marry me?”  He then proceeded to tell me that I was too wonderful to go on unmarried for the rest of my life.

Being in love sucks, by the way, I just wanted all of you to know that.  But, the thing is, it only seems to suck for me.  I usually have complicated relationships, and then I just hate the entire male race.

Like I do right now.