Trembling Fingers

I know that a breakup is not the end of the world. I know I am young, and have plenty of time to find someone else, someone better suited for me. But damn, it still hurts. Three years is a long time, especially for a couple of teenagers. I really believed we had a connection, that he really loved me. Why else would he have stayed so long?

I was so, incredibly wrong.

And I know that it’s my fault, that’s the worst part. He ran off to be with some other girl because I was too much to handle. Funny thing is, the girl he’s so desperate to have is worse than I ever was. She’s a steamroller when it comes to guys. So on one hand, I want to be immature and hope that she completely wrecks him as revenge for how he treated me over the last two months. On the other, though…. I still love him. And I just want himto be happy. And if that means being with someone else, then so be it. Just because he gave up on me, it doesn’t mean I have to give up on him. Despite the complete ass he’s turned into, I still want to believe that the sweet, loving, amazing guy he used to be is still in there behind that mask hormones and hopelessness.

It is the last semester of my junior year. So far, I have lost my dog, my grandfather, many of the people I used to call friends, the one guy that I so naively convinced would never leave. The stress of loss and the pressure of today’s school system, as well as the job I somehow managed to keep through the school year despite explicitly saying i wanted this time off has left me physically ill. My migraines got worse again–worse than they’ve been in years. I’m exhausted all the time no matter how much sleep i get. No matter how well I eat I still feel sick all the time. I’m so tired of feeling so down all the time. I just want to feel like a human being, for once, instead of nothing more than a zombie.

Some good things have happened though. I get to go back to Paris for a couple weeks this summer, then maybe to Oregon with my friend. i took the SAT for the first time and scored 1922. I will take it again, because if I can manage 2100 I could get better scholarships. I did get a puppy shortly after my dog died. She’s named Sophie, for Howl’s Moving Castle. After I decided I was finally fed up with my weight (I have a pretty bad knee injury that won’t go away, and was very overweight anyway, which meant it’s not healing well), I switched to a mostly vegetarian/dairy free diet.I’ve lost nearly 20 pounds so far. I’m hoping to be in good enough shape by June that the trip to Paris won’t be as difficult to get through as it was last time, i want to really enjoy it.

Alone Again

Three years, you held me close.

I used to listen to your heart beating

with a sense of wonder.

You kept me safe, warm, and I thought

I was loved.


Then conversations slipped into silence

and I love you’s

became bitter goodbyes.

There is a perpetual sadness in forgetting what you taste like.

For the First Time in Forever

i’d very much like to know how many of you began reading this for the Frozen reference of my title.

Down to business!

This would be the first time in two (three?) weeks that my computer has even been plugged in. I’ve been accessing the internet during class (tee hee), or otherwise through my tablet or X-Box. And by the way, being on Pinterest during class is not a crime when all of my work is already done.

Anyways, I just attempted to write this fairly long meaningful rant about suffering vs beauty, and then my laptop decided to be dumb and go back to my reader when I didn’t ask it to then didn’t save my rant in drafts and long story short, I’m very angry right now.

I am a junior this year, and pretty sick of all my classes. Mostly Spanish. I hate Spanish. Teachers have openly said that this year will be the toughest year, and now I finally believe them. Not only is it the year with the most required standarized tests, but the required classes themselves are much harder than last year and my teenage, heavily medicated brain is getting pretty worn out.

I’m still getting  very good grades. I think my lowest grade is a 93, but upon investigating I believe there is a typo in that teacher’s gradebook. The only thing lowering my grade right now is the test we took thursday, that I got 71 or possibly 74 out of 75 on, but in the gradebook it’s out of 85. I will ask about that on Monday. other than that mistake, my lowest grade is a 98, and that is more than sufficient for me. And don’t get me wrong, B’s would be fine. I’m not worried about my grades at all, and the individual classes aren’t too difficult, it’s just the workload collectively is a little insane. not to mention Thursday the 2nd, when I had a test in every single one of my academic classes and it was awful. And then I had two more tests the next day, which was also pretty awful. I think that’s really what’s been getting to me: stressing over tests. This year I will have to take the PSAT along with the SAT and possibly the ACT if I’m not happy enough with the first score. I don’t know why I’m so worried, but it really has been messing with my focus.

I actually have been finding it quite difficult to focus in class. I don’t know if it’s just that I have too much on my mind or if the material is just boring or what, but this whole quarter I have not been able to keep my focus.

However, my parents have provided more than enough motivation for me to keep my grades up, as well as the school. If all my grades are above 95 and I have 3 or less absences I can get out of semester finals. And, if I keep my grades up all year my dad will get me something nice as a “job well done” present.

Last year I got really nice speakers.

This year i’m not worried in the slightest about my basic grades, but there’s a lot of other pressures, for example, the novel I never finished, the PSAT/SAT/ACT, I decided to keep my job through the winter (which is nice but also makes my week feel a lot longer since I can only work weekends), my medical everything that’s getting out of hand, and my friends that are spinning out of control. I feel very lonely honestly. it’s kind of sad, the only person that texts me on a regular basis is my boyfriend, who is one of maybe five people I feel I can be open with. Everyone else I may be friendly with, but I do by no means consider them to be friends.

The worst case is a girl who used to be my absolute, no questions asked, best friend that has sunk so deep into so many awful things that I don’t want to nor feel any obligation to be friends with her anymore. Eight years wasted on parties, weed, shrooms, and alcohol (and god knows what else) while I sit in my room alone wondering what happened to the great person she used to be, before the depression that came out of nowhere and the five suicidal attempts and an awful, abusive relationship that she is still in.

The funny thing is, I’m probably better friends with her boyfriend than I am with her right now, and I’ve spent the last year absolutely despising him for what he’d done to her, though apparently he’s much better now.

Anyway, I just needed to get all that out! Will probably be more later, but for now, good night.

To those who believe I’m a pathetic twat, fuck you.

This blog was not intended for the benefit of other people. This was my best outlet to vent in a healthy way. It is in NO WAY meant to be read as “Oh, I have things so hard,” or “My problems are so difficult to deal with.” 


So if you want to tell me I’m not allowed to feel sorry for myself once in a while because somebody else has it harder, then FUCK YOU. You wouldn’t say that to someone with depression, or anxiety, or any other medical issue, would you? You wouldn’t say it to someone who was just told they have to lose something emotionally valuable to live comfortably. And you SHOULDN’T say it to people who you don’t know. You don’t know me, my problems, OR MY SOCIAL LIFE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

If you want to tell me I’m pathetic for complaining a little about working my summer away when I’m only 16, think of it this way:

35% of teen girls in America become pregnant between the ages of 16 and 18

80% of adult smokers started smoking before the age of 18

Of the of teens that admitted to consistently drinking, 40% drink when upset, 31% drink when alone, 25% drink when they’re bored or to “feel high”.

Teens between the ages of 16-19 are 3.5x more likely to be raped, especially when they have been drinking or using drugs, or at parties.


Think of the things I COULD BE DOING, and be glad that I prefer a quiet night of video games or Netflix. And yes, I complain about work, I’M A TEENAGER. This is my last chance for freedom, my last chance to have an actual summer, and yes, I’m a bit angry about that. But you don’t have to call me out on one little instance of whining about it.

And, instead of going to parties and killing my liver, brain, and well, everything else, I work. I participate in the community. I have friends, and a social life, but guess what? They all have jobs too. You have no right to tell me I don’t know how to have a social life, or that it’s not OK to knit pick it every once in a while. Everyone has hard days. Just let me vent, and move on. Yes, people have lives outside of work. I do too. it’s not hard, it’s just like a life outside of school. The hours that people are available are just much less predictable, ESPECIALLY for teens. So yes, I was annoyed that everyone was busy and no one had time for anyone else. But you don’t have to berate me for missing my friends, you sick fuck.

And if your life is bad enough that the only way you feel power is anonymously attacking a 16 year old girl on the internet, then I pity YOU and YOUR sad, pathetic life.

You, sir, are an asshole.

Nothing says “summer!” like more work.

If I had known when I was younger that growing up meant sacrificing my summer to work, I would not have been so hasty to mature. Sure, it’s what’s expected and all that, but I really hate the idea of giving up my last couple of summers as a teen to work.


As the last few weeks of school sloooowly counts down, and the job hunt comes to a halt (I landed a restaurant–the exact kind of place i didn’t want to work), I find myself more stressed and therefore irritable than usual. And I’ll be damned if mom hasn’t noticed.

Of course she’s worried. She thinks I’ll go back to how I was in middle school. I won’t. I’m just stressed, and fed up with society and school and teachers and work and bullshit. I swear the only things keeping me sane right now are Pinterest and my ceramics class. Seeing as my boyfriend has been busy for the last for weeks with soccer and still has a couple weeks more, I’ve had more time left to my own devices. Mostly, I just ended up watching a lot of anime on Netflix.

The reason I’m coming off so mean, I’m sure, is because of how sick to death I am of people badgering me to do shit for them, as if I don’t have enough work to do on my own.

Sometimes, I really hate people. The end of the school year is one of those times.

It doesn’t help that there’s been this whole dramatic thing with the girl that is supposed to be my best friend, but that’s a different story.

I feel like I had all these plans, and they’ll never get done because I’m too busy doing what other people ask of me. Chores, schoolwork, restaurant work, the stress of being in this town, and that bitch that took one look at my hair and said I wasn’t mature.

Well fuck you too. If that’s how you talk to your employees, I don’t want to work there anyways.

I am so done with socializing this year.

Three Cheers for Five Heartbreaks

Nothing defines being a teenager as well as the rebellious terms on which we attempt to achieve freedoms we can’t have. For me, I’ve had very little parental rebellion. My parents are both fantastic people, I have no reason to deliberately go against them. Societally, however, I’ve done quite a bit to rebel. Truthfully I just don’t like our society very much.

When it comes to sociality in a school environment, everything is based on a very specific hierarchy. Surplus staff at the bottom, then nerds (not geeks, just those really rude nerds who are so matter of fact all the time you want to strangle them), special education, teachers,antisocials, minimal socials, principals, social butterflies, athletes, and druggies at the top. May sound strange, but at  y school, at least, that’s how it is. Personally the idea of getting into drugs and alcohol seems pointless; popularity doesn’t mean enough to me to give up the college plans I’ve worked so hard for.

Within every grade there is a smaller hierarchy that follows the same basic rules, then when you get to the school as a whole and treat grades like factions, you’ll see that freshmen only have power if they’re sluts and druggies, and seniors have authority ov Continue reading

Flame: Chapter 3

The strange boys that crashed into her hideout were the most obnoxious creatures that she had ever seen. She had always disliked young men, because of their rowdy, repulsive manner and their crude sense of decency. These two vagabonds fit the bill perfectly: messy, sweaty, and ignorantly loud. Fortunately for Kyra, they had not yet noticed that their new hiding place had another member, and this allowed her to slip back into the darkness unnoticed, deciding to wait until they left to take any sort of action.

Once again, time was not in her favour, and after several minutes of waiting, Kyra began to get just the slightest bit ticked off. The invidious hyenas had been laughing their heads off for no reason and admiring the rather long case in front of them for far too long, and it was slowly driving her insane. It was time to get out.

Crouched down on all fours, she cautiously crawled towards the exit, eying the boys after every miniscule movement. Still as oblivious as when they’d arrived, the boys never once looked her direction, and as she neared the opening of the cave, she began to move faster. This sudden speed-up caused a chain of chaos to ensue.

A sharp rock extruding from the dirt scraped along her already tender shins, and she let out a short yelp of pain. The noise was just enough to attract the boys’ attention, and the slimmer of the two approached her, muttering something about hoping she was okay. In that moment of panic, her foot flew through the air and hit his stomach with a dull thud. “Auron!” the other boy yelled and looked straight at her, “why you…” Thwack.

Kyra pulled her fist back to her, standing ready for the blows that were sure to come, but instead the two boys simply rolled around in the dirt, groaning in pain. She let herself relax, certain they would not attack her when they knew she could fight back.

“What was that for?!” the second whined, coddling his bruised cheek in a fetal position. Kyra stood grimly, leaving the question unanswered. He gritted his teeth, and turned to help his friend, apparently named Auron, whose breath had just barely returned.

“Solomon,” he whispered quietly, “did we just get beaten by a girl?”

Solomon flashed a grin and rubbed his cheek again, “Yeah, I’d say we did.”

The two sat up, whispering amongst themselves and trying Kyra’s patience once more. She began to wonder if they would notice if she left, but something about these two morons intrigued her. Against her better judgment, she stayed, pacing back and forth on the little space left of the cave that was not intended to house three people.

“Hey, you! What are you doing here?” The sudden volume of Solomon’s voice startled her. She turned to face them.

“Well I’m so sorry for ruining your little party,” she muttered sarcastically, “but I was here first! So I think the question is what are you doing here?”

“We were seeking shelter from the rain!” Auron piped in.

“Oh yes, because you two grimy boys look completely horrified at the thought of a little rain. I bet the concept of a bath every once in a while was just lost on the two of you” Kyra said, as she saw the water droplets still clinging to their hair and clothes.

“Alright everyone calm down,” Solomon interjected. “Look lady, my friend and I have had a rough morning, could you just leave us alone?”

Shocked at his treatment of her, Kyra began to mouth a royal order, but realized that this wasn’t Luminae, and she wasn’t a princess–not anymore. She closed her mouth and continued pacing, until the strange case caught her eye again. “You’re hiding.”

“What did you say? We’re what?” Auron growled.

“Hiding. That’s why you’re in this cave, in the middle of nowhere. You’re hiding, probably because you stole whatever’s in that case.”

“Well how would you know it’s stolen?”

“Why are you defending yourself if it’s not?”

“Okay, okay” Solomon shrugged, “Let’s pretend for five minutes that perhaps the sword is stolen, and perhaps my friend and I are hiding from Luminean Guard, what could you do about that?” Kyra opened her mouth once again to present her royal roots, but shut it just as quickly.

“Exactly.” Auron stretched out his legs and slouched back, making himself comfortable.

“I could still report you.”

“We’re far from the Guard now,” he said cockily, “and nobody is gonna catch us.”