Insanity (Something I wrote while I was half-asleep in school)

Oh, I'm fucking out of control. My mind is whispering, "Come out and play," but my body does not act. I would lose my mind, but I would be fucking free. Nothing is fucking genuine. Nothing insane. Let my dark side come out. I want it to be me. I want to lose control. Fear is keeping me back. My mind wants to control my body. The demons come out at night and when I am close to sleeping. I am their puppet then. I close my eyes and I see my potential bravery, my words outspokern. I will break, and it will go one of two ways (or both) - I will breathe a breath of fresh air, or I will shatter into a million pieces. Either way, I will be gloriously free. I feel myself cracking - I have been for a while. I know I am wanted somewhere. My mind cannot think. I am tired. Bullshit is spouted. I wanna fucking bang my head. It's fucking dizzy as fuck. Where the fuck am I going with this? I lay my head down and I see fucked up images. Flying rainbow giraffes, and poodle heads on human legs. I hear my demons beckoning me. They want me to play. "Soon," I answer. Very soon.

Anxiety and Insomnia

I am sometimes so afraid to say what I think, and I almost always want to recant what I say, think, or write so that the order of things are not disturbed. I hate disturbing the order of things after I do it, because I always end up with the consequences that I just do not like to deal with. Now that I think about it, while I am in a state of anxiety which pops up at the worst of times, I just feel like being in a state of peace. Of course, I'd like to imagine that I could find the courage to rebel, and be free, but that would be disasterous, for I would have to deal with consequences of anxiety, discomfort, and things not lining up with the status quo. Right now, I just wanna fall asleep. I almost never support my decisions, for I do not have confidence in myself. I do not believe I am right. Ever. I realize that I act like I do, but I do not. I just cannot take myself seriously. I am not good enough. Even as I write this, I am wondering what people would say if they saw this. They wouldn't believe it. I barely believe it, for I feel like a fake. I am unoriginal. I am robotic in nature, if robots could be depressed. My eyes are drooping to the lullaby. I just do not want to hear their words. I cannot bare my soul to the world. I want to hide in my shell. I do not trust anyone. They are most likely mocking me, but I thankfully turn my music louder, so I cannot hear them. It's only the end of the songs and the transitions to the next songs that I dread, because I can briefly hear their words. Oh, God! Here comes the end of a song. Thankfully something loud fills my ears. A rebellious song about America, I believe, by System of a Down. Music is usually there for me, which I am thankful for. I breathe the song in, but then it abruptly ends. Another song, loud and beautiful, pours into my ears. What I would give to be in hiding right now, curled up in my bed, taking in the much needed sleep. It seems no one is talking very much. How much do people talk of me? I wonder if the teacher notices me. If she does, I don't care anyway. I am out in the open and as far as I am concerned, I'm done with the things I need to do. I wonder if she thinks I am texting. I hope she knows better that this is not a phone. I also hope she knows I have no one to text to. I guess that is fine, I was more of a loner anyway. I, of course, still am, even if I have a twin sister. She doesn't want much to do with me nowadays. Says that we spend too much together. But, I believe she goes through the same things as I do. I'd like to think so, which would mean we are closer than I could imagine. But she couldn't admit something like that. Hell, I can't. I am only myself when I am alone and independent. Independence is something I can never dream to fully gain. They're still talking. The anxiety returns. Anxiety is something I usually get when I get too excited over something that doesn't matter in the long run. I welcome it small quantities in the middle of the day in a different setting. But I usually have it in large quantities when I try to fall asleep. I have always had a problem with insomnia. Damn. Why is the sun shining in my midst when I do not wish it to. This place usually does not have sunlight. It's not usually this unnaturally warm either. I wish I could plop my head on this desk and fall asleep right on the spot, but my fear of the substantial loss of time would get to me. I hold back on everything. On sleeping. On connections. On my convictions. On hoping to find love. I just wish I could let go.

But, I can never.

Crossing Paths

In the useless, strict monotony of the first day of the last year of high school, there are some interesting gems in this awful day. I must note something - I am a...let me put it this way - I have never dated in my life. I've only thought about it once or twice in my life time, but I never actually did it. I am not ever attracted to the guys in my school - I am only really attracted to older and female celebrities - Garrett Hedlund, Tom Hiddleston, Olivia Wilde - you get the picture. Now with that being said -

I was sitting in my lonely, small government class, when I noticed it. I got those chills, those butterflies, the ones I only got to hear about in stories. That was when he walked in. I became so lost, and I could not stop looking at him. I do not know what it was that attracted me to him, but something was there. Then, my logic kicked in.

I do not know if he noticed, but I highly doubt it. He is in a different caste, a different world. He has his, I have mine. We do not cross paths. The only time we did was in our sophmore history class. Yeah. I remember that. Sad, huh? I do not think he knows me at all - maybe I am some annoying, vague memory who has an irritable (to him) twin sister. I am just an awkward girl - no I am less than that, I am invisible!

So therefore, I am not in his mind. My butterflies will die inside. They mean nothing. He will never see me. There is no hope in that - We will never cross paths.

A Glimpse into My Awakening

It was summer of 2007. I was a young lass of thirteen. My twin and I were visiting our mother. She was at work for most of the time and we had nothing to do. Translation = We were bored. So, I was browsing the Internet, specifically YouTube. And, then...it happened. I watched the first video in a series of 19 called "9/11 Coincidences" from NufffRespect. There was no turning back, no matter how hard I tried. I credit him with my Awakening, as some would call it. Him, and some one else. I put his informative videos to the back of my mind after my mom told my sister and I that these videos were utter bullshit. They never fully left. I researched it a little more about 9/11 and other "conspiracy theories" over the course of the months into the early year of 2008. It never became something that took over my mind - until January 22nd, 2008. What happened January 22nd, 2008 that affected my life in such a very strange way? Heath Ledger died at age 28. To this day, I can never explain why his death, and later Brittany Murphy's death, affected me the way it did. I never knew him, nor met him. He just had been one of my favorite actors over the years. The suspicious circumstances of his young death, made me search it on YouTube. Conspiracy theories became my number one priority in my mind. Over the years, I kind of brushed them off, even though I came across Vigilant Citizen, which renewed my vigor into the subject even more. But, the logic part of my brain always told me all of this was dangerous for my mind. After all, my wise father, who is kind of high up in the Air Force, says that these things are false, damaging to my mind, and outright insulting to him. But, it can never leave me, these ideas. As a certain character from a certain popular movie, "What is the most resilient parasite? Bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm? An idea. Resilient... highly contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain it's almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed - fully understood - that sticks; right in there somewhere." But know this - I always take these ideas with a grain of salt - I have never seen any really substantial proof that beyond a reasonable doubt links these suspicious symbols, murders, and acts of terrorism to these certain groups. Until then, I shall question everything I see. I do not believe in anything mainstream. I would rather turn to an alternative news source over mainstream any day. I have to research some more. Until then - Question everything! There is some truth to these seemingly outlandish conspiracy theories. I will absolutely write more on this subject!

To all, a good evening!

P.S. For those who are tired of the fakeness of this so-called real world, check out Vigilant Citizen. Unlike the genuinely crazy and egotistical Alex Jones, this guy is actually anonymous and he actually believes in what he is doing.

London

The fresh summer breeze was warmer than usual. There were few clouds, and the sky was a clear blue. As usual, there were many tourists in the palace, and out, but it wasn't too bad. I didn't chose to get an audio tour set of headphones - I particularly like looking at things instead of having my thoughts scrambled by someone spout out information I will forget the next day. I like to take things in. The paintings had great detail, and the faces of one portrait in particular (of Victoria and her family) contained a light in their eyes that I usually do not see in other portraits, which I found to be uniquely beautiful. The inside of the palace - all of it! - was accented in an obscene amount of gold! There were vases in the corners of perhaps every hall we were permitted to go to. They were intricately detailed, and I could not help thinking how well my room would look with one of them! The royal treasures glittered in all of the colors of the rainbow, but the most striking ones were all the ones in blue. It was one of the most brilliant blues I have ever laid my eyes upon. The princess's lace Alexander McQueen wedding gown - how enchanting it was! I thought it was the perfect wedding dress. As I looked up, there were more gigantic gold accents on the ceiling. Then, as I left the stuffy palace into the fresh garden air, I was thinking peculiar thoughts as a person who just enjoyed a tour. "Poor Princess Kate - what if she ends up like her predecessor!" was my thought. Considering I'm what you'd call a "conspiracy theorist", I have thought of the theories of Diana's death and I've had not-so-high opinions of the royal family. Perhaps I pondered all of this because I saw how much they flaunted their new princess. I didn't think of this for long - I got seperated from the group, thus I had to return to them. As my family and I reunited, we walked around the front of the palace. I then dawdled to St. James Park, I thought of the realization(s) I had come to earlier that day, before the palace tour, in that very same place - "Is it just me, or is everything around in this city watched? And there are so many police officers around..." I basically get a "V For Vendetta" vibe everytime I visit London, hell even in my own neighborhood. It overtook any enjoyment I had of the pigeons perching on my leg begging for food, and the warm summer breeze, the unusually clear blue sky and hot August sun. It gnawed at me for quite some time - it still does so as I'm typing this! I did not like the cameras and the huge presence of the many police officers. Even as I walked into the enormous train station to find a public restroom (which we had to pay for), I saw the big-brother-esque TV screen parrotting headlines from the puppet news station Sky News, and I saw several posters telling travellers to "report anything suspicious". Maybe I am overthinking this, but the small things always lead to something bigger. My thoughts were immediately arrested, when I realized I had to leave to the bus. Good bye, I said to London. I hope I can see you again!

The Things You Should Know

There are some things you should know before calling me a hypocrite -

I have a complicated relationship with my step-mother, as evident by the posts below. Sometimes it can be good, sometimes bad, and, rarely, just plain miserable. But that doesn't mean I hate her. Hate is such a strong word.

I have mood swings and I sway off topic very easily. I can never focus on one topic in one post - I have too much to say, too many thoughts wanting to spill out of my head.

And...

I tend to censor myself, especially when talking ill about a family member behind their back on this blog. It is usually because of guilt.

No doubt, I will think of something else after I publish my blog post, but right now my empty stomach is saying I should stop writing right now.

So, to all, I wish a good supper!

The Reason

I chose not to live with my much kinder mother, after all these years of wanting it. I chose not to. It was a crazy choice. I could have lived in peace and happiness. Why would I be so stupid? The reason - I chose to be selfless. If I stayed with my mom, my twin sister still would have had to go back to this place. Who would be there for her at her lowest points? Who would help her out with the littlest things? Who would be with her at Homecoming, Prom, and Graduation? Me. And she would do the same for me. So, the next time my step-mother reminds me, "Oh, you could have stayed with your Mom," I will remember the reason.

To all, a good evening.

P.S. - The Reason is not the only reason - I needed to see friends again, no matter how horrible the school is. I needed to bid a proper farewell to this place as well. But The Reason is still the main reason.