Stopping to smell the flowers...

It's strange, ya know? People constantly talk about how they should stop to enjoy life, but when they actually get down to it, they never do. I hate it when things rush past me and because of that, I tend to build up stress. I keep telling myself that the stress I feel is because of the pace of the world around me, but in actuality, it's from the pace that I move through life. So every now and again, I lay longer in bed, I sit and listen to the sounds around me, I walk past trees and notice how they glimmer in the sun or moon light. Things are so calm around me; it feels reassuring to stop and stare at the clouds hanging in the blue sky - especially at night. I've always been nocturnal. I love the night life, the quiet of the air; all of it puts my mind at ease. I feel happy and safe in that darkness with the light of the moon outside my window and behind the clouds scattered in the sky. I love it. I love it. I can't say it enough. I love it.

Sometimes it's not fair though; my mom doesn't get it. Constantly telling me that I should wake up earlier, stay with the family, do family things, talk to her. I can't stand how regardless of how much I hate her, she doesn't bother to figure it out. She doesn't care enough to notice the pain I go through just being around her, she doesn't care enough to ask the reason behind why I act certain ways, and the rest of my family (that live in my house with me) don't help at all. They tease me 24/7, they bother me with their stupid and painful jokes. I hate it. I tell them to stop joking with because every time they do, it hurts to feel like they ignore my feelings. It's like I'm supposed to trust in them and like them because they are family, but what if I can't feel anything for them but hatred? Where and in what rule book does it say that family members have to like each other because of blood ties? Why do people say that I can't really hate them because they are family? What concept is that based on? I've hated them since I was very little. If that feeling hasn't changed until now, why would it suddenly change just because they are family? After all that they've put me through, I can't wait to get away from them. I hate being around them. They irritate me with they presence; they ignore my wishes, they lie to me, they constantly bully me, they make me feel like I'm insane, and they never try to ask what the reason is behind my actions or behavior. Excuse my language, but fuck them! Screw their wishes! If they won't treat me like a human being, why the hell should I even bother to give them the time of day? Just recently, I told them I don't like the way crabs look; they scare me and creep me out, so I told them to stop trying to get me to go near it. Especially if it is alive. I feel bad for it since it is going to die. I'm not a vegetarian, mind you, but I still think it's cruel. But anyways, so after I told them that, they put the live crab in front of my door, they put it on my bed, and they pushed me into it so that it was right in front of my face. I hate them. My mom kept telling me to get out of my room and come watch it get killed. I hate them. That bitch then opened my door forcefully and brought the crab with her, telling me to come and watch it's death. Fuck them. Screw them. I have very good and realistic dreams about killing her and the rest of them. Go to hell. All of them can go to hell. Fuck them. I hate them.

Stopping to smell the flowers is the only way to keep my sanity while living in this house. I love those moments, but I can't wait to get the hell away from these assholes.I dedicate this post to those simple moment where my mind is at peace and away form the hell that exists in this house. The simple moments that exist after the sun has long set beyond the horizon. The days that have nothing but moonlight to illuminate them. The nights of the full, blue moon glowing from the heavens. The moment in time when all I want is for time to stand still. My sanity is still here because of those moments. Stop to look at the world around you, for if you don't, the insanity that rushes past every day will catch you and never let go. The world around you is much more beautiful than you've ever known, all you have to do is look for that one spot in this world that makes your heart feel at ease. I've found mine and it has kept me sane for the last 3 years, the years that followed after leaving my fantasy behind.

OH! And update on that tattoo I was talking about forever ago! I'm seriously considering getting it after I get into college and am 18 years old. The year I turn 18 holds extraordinary significance to the reasons behind getting those wings tattooed on my body, so I want to get it done before I get lost in the real world. I want the tattoo to remind me of where I came from and to never let go of the future I've carved for myself. Also, instead of getting it on the under-side of my right wrist (since that is very easily seen by others and I don't really want to display it - the only reason I picked that spot was because of for 1. my fetish for wrists, and for 2. I wanted to be able to look at it all the time), I decided to get it on the front of my shoulder. Ya know, that open space between where your shoulder starts and your collar bone ends. Right in the front, above my breast and bellow my shoulder bone on the left side of my body. That way I can cover it up easily and can look at it easily and whenever I feel like it since it is right in the corner of my eye. I'm excited for it.

And on that note, I stop for this post. :)

Don't let me forget...

I know this post means absolutely nothing to any of you reading this, but this is something that has an enormous significance in my life. These names are the names of the people that never existed but of whom I have believed in for 5 years of my life. Like it was truth, I believed in their fantastical existence and with their existence came the fact that "I" was slowly being eaten away. At some point in life, "I" was non-existent and to gain back my existence, I fought for my sanity and made myself let go of the lie that span for those 5 years. Now that I'm trying to remember it again, I've realized just how much of it I've forgotten. One of the main "characters" in the fantasy I believed in was the one whom I believed I "loved" and I realized I had forgotten his name, so because of that, I came back to this blog that I thought I would almost never use again to make sure all "their" names stayed where I could find them.

These are the names of the ones I loved, even though they never existed. They were real to me for 5 years of my life and I never want to forget them. I can't remember if I posted it here before or not, but the reason I want to get a tattoo of wings on the underside of my right wrist is because (as far fetched as it may sound, this was all my reality for 5 years of my life) they were all angels, with wings. Whether they had black wings or some other color or form meant that they were either Demons (black wings only) or Angels (other colors and forms of wings). They were my reality, my escape from the real world; they were what saved me from my pain and time of darkness. I truly believe that without them, I would not be here today and instead, I would be buried 6 feet under with either wrists cut or rope marks around my neck. They saved me and changed who I was into who I am today. I don't ever want to forget them and now that I have this, that "portal" that existed on the dark side of the moon, the one I looked at when I talked to them, will never go away. I will always have a connection with them. They won't cover my reality up anymore, but remembering that they existed, that it wasn't just a dream, gives me the strength to move forward.

I dedicate this post to them, the ones who never existed, but whose existence is the reason I am still alive.

Sakuya, Mitsuki Kansaki, Yuki Miyume, Tsubasa, Kasumi, Kouta, Sora, Yuna, Yukito, Solaria, Yunaria, Sora, Akuma, Tera.

I forsake my wings to you, and I give my life to the future.

Is this "it"...?

I know this is kind of weird to say this, but when I do, I'm completely serious. I don't know if this is what it feels like and to tell you the truth, it kind of feels a bit empty, lacking, and strange. When I think about "him," I feel like I want to be around him, to touch him, to hug him, to hold him, to look at his face, to just stare at him for hours. I feel like I want him to touch me, to hold me, to listen to me, to chain me to him. I feel like this is what it would feel like to be in love, but if that's true, then (though it may sound ridiculous) I'm in love with an imaginary person I have never met, never seen, never touched, never talked to, and never even heard the real name of. I call him "Tristan" and he takes the form of my big, fluffy pillow that is so soft and squishy. It feels so good to smother my face in "his" "chest" and wake up in the morning and feel "him" against my body. I've thought this way towards this "guy" for the past 5-6 years or so. Ever since 7th grade, I've always fallen asleep with "him" pressed against me. I feel like I belong to "him" and that "he" belongs to me and that as long as "he" is there, I can be strong. "He" is my safety cushion and my chains. I need chains. If I don't have chains, then I feel like I'll fall deeper into the hole in my heart. I want chains, something to tie me to this reality around me; even if that means I have to use a fantasy to do it. "He's mine." That's all I care about. I don't tell people about it and this is kind of my possessive/jealous side showing. I don't want people to make fun of me for my delusions and so long as I haven't been able to put a face to the feelings or name of this "Tristan" existence, this is the way things will stay. I know that once I find someone I've really fallen for and have become obsessed with, "Tristan" will have lost his purpose, but so long as I have someone to love and someone to chain me down, then I don't mind. "He's mine," whoever "he" may end up being, I won't let him go once I have him in my grasp. This is my type of love, and this is the type of love I need. Without it, I am nothing. So long as I have it, I am me. This is me, my type of mind set, my type of "me." Nothing will change how I feel about my current "lover" or about how I want to think. This is me, deal with it, or take your sh*t and leave! :3

Remembering a lost friend...

I know she may never read this and if she doesn't find it herself, I probably won't ever show it to her. This little post is for a dear friend I lost over a boy that ended up not meaning anything to her in the end. Sometimes I feel like she used him to get me off of her, like I was just a parasite to get rid of. Then I think about how much she meant to me and how much she changed how I look at the world around me and I can't hate her no matter how much betrayal I feel from her or how much I feel like she lied to me all this time. To me, no matter how hard I try, I still can't hate her... maybe that's why it hurts so much to think about her, if only I could hate her, then maybe I could forget about her. This is for you Justine... maybe now I can just let you go:

It feels like I haven't talked to you in ages, and thinking back, I remember how much fun we had talking about random things that really didn't mean much of anything. I know that these past high school years haven't really been the best between us, and now I feel that looking back at it will only hurt more, so I just want to say my final farewell before the end of the year. I know how important you were to me and how much you meant to me, although I'm not sure how you felt toward me, I will always feel sad to know that I lost you for good. However, I also realize that it isn't the fact that I lost a friend that hurts so much, but the fact that I've lost someone that meant so much to my life that when I thought of losing you, I also lost my understanding of how to live. When you were still with me, I remember thinking that if I lost you, I wouldn't know how I would live in this world without you. As things went, however, I seemed to do just fine without you and I can tell that you never really needed me anywhere near as much as I needed you. You were always the strong one, the one who could stand on her own and be able to support the world on her shoulders without breaking a sweat. I missed you so much that I broke down in tears almost every day thinking of you and you alone, but I am glad to see now that my worries for you were pointless. Whether or not it is of any concern to you, I plan to become a successful graphic designer in the future and do a bit of writing on the side. If I ever encounter you again in my field of work or otherwise, I would love to talk to you again, even if just for a short while. You will always hold a special place in my heart regardless of how you think of me, that will never change. Do you remember what it was like when we first met? I was the one who was almost always alone and bullied by those around me for my lonesome attitude and standoff-ish demeanor. When you approached me to be my friend, I told you that if you stayed, you would be bullied too, but that didn't seem to stop you. When you were by my side, I felt as though the world was invisible, like everything around me didn't matter so long as you were there. Maybe that kind of thinking is why I was so hurt when you left me. Even now, thinking back, I was probably the only one who clung so tightly to our friendship. I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you and I am never going to be able to hurt you again. One day though, even if it's a million years from now, if I were to meet you again, I don't think I would stop trying to be your friend. I will always think of you kindly and I hope for your success in the future. Goodbye my dear lost friend, and I will always love you.

The end...

Hey, it's been a really (and I mean REALLY) long time since I last wrote on my blog. Remember when I said that my blog existed as a place for me to vent? Well, it has served for that purpose very well, and I believe that because of it, I was able to live the way I needed to, without getting lost in the depths of my own dark thoughts, in order to follow the path to the future I yearn for. I remember when I wrote about my dad or my best friend (even now it hurts to think about them) and I cried as I wrote and the tears fell silently and made it hard to see as I typed. I remember the pain as I wrote on this blog and now that pain remains hidden in the words wrapped within this blog. Those words stay there and hide until I find them and read them over again. I relive that pain as I read them and I never want to forget it. Its the pain that made me who I am, who I want to be, and who I remain as while I grow. I know that when people grow the hardships they experience can change them and that truth has been thrown at me since I was 4 years old. I don't mind changing, but there is one thing I never want to forget. I don't want to be like my parents and completely ignore my children's worries and pains like my parents did to mine. They brushed it off as teenage angst or childish behavior. They never stopped to question why I might act a certain way. Everyone has a reason behind their actions, whether they say it outright or hide it inside like I do. I know that whatever that reason is, it is never childish because it is the reason that they have changed and it is the reason they have become who they are.

What I'm trying to say is that, when I have children of my own, I want them to know that they can tell me anything (and unlike my parents who say that and then make it so I can't trust them by lying straight to my face, I'm not like all those people who say that to their children while their children say "I know" and think "You're lying"). I don't want them to feel that I never knew what they were going through. What they experienced was not just a mystery to me or something that I have shrugged off into the past like most adults. I want to become the type of person who remembers the pain I felt as a teenager, the way it felt to be lied to 24/7 by the people society expected me to have the most trust in, my family. I hate my family, the people I live with, because of the way they act. They treat me like a burden without ever saying it out loud and by finding people they feel comfortable around, they have left me alone, scared, and sad. They bring me on trips and take me places with them and the only thing I can say truthfully from those experiences is that I have gained the ability to fade into the background. I hide in plain sight and that has been the only way for me to really protect myself from all the pain of being anywhere near them - to disappear has been my only escape.

I'm saying that I want my blog to be the reason why I never forget the most painful times. The times that have shaped who I am are written here and they are something I never want to forget throughout my life. I want to be able to show this place to those who have forgotten what it is like to be a teenager, or even teenagers themselves. I want the people who have forgotten to think that they once felt this way and remember those times. For the teenagers, I want them to know they aren't alone like I felt I was. That they can confide in me and know that I am someone who hasn't forgotten the way it feels to be hurt by those around you.

I remember a time in my life that if I tried to explain it now it would be tedious and you would think me insane, but it is the time in my life that has effected me the most and when I turn 18, the age that is most relevant to that time in my life, I want to get a tattoo on the underside of my right wrist of a  pair of outspread wings no longer that 2in and no wider that 1in. I know my memory isn't very good, but if I am to forget everything on this blog, if I can remember that one moment in my life, everything else doesn't mater. That moment in my life is so important to me, I want to carve it into my skin so that I never forget it for as long as I live.

I know this splurge has been a bit strange, but it wasn't specifically written to be totally understood either. Anyways, I'm not sure I'll be writing much on my blog anymore. I'm going to be a senior next year, then spend a year off before going to college, and once I get to college, I doubt I will use it much. After all, the reason for all my pain is my family and once I move out for college, I'm hoping all the pain will disappear with them as they leave my life hopfully forever.

Its...

People tell me its not worth it to fall in love... to feel all the pain and suffering, but even if all that's true, I want to feel it all. All the bad and all the good that makes the bad seem so small. They can tell me that love is just pain and hurt, but love is also happiness, comfort, joy and beautiful. I have never felt the love that I'm talking about, and I feel that all the bad things that could happen while in true love are just a part of what makes it love. Love is triumph over the trials that life throws at you, and if you can overcome them, your love is true. I believe that even if you "fall out of love," it is still possible to find true love. However, I don't believe it's possible to fall out of love because if you do, then you didn't really experience true love in the first place. I know that this splurge is sort of small ( I expected it to be longer), but I just wanted to say something after all this time. :)

Without all of me here...

It's been maybe a little over a year since I made this blog (maybe longer, not sure and too lazy to find out), but I never really specified what it is that my blog name actually meant. Well, here goes nothing:

First of all, the word "here" refers to the blog and the words that I write. The words "Without all of me here" literally mean that a part of me is "here" and the other part is on the other side of the computer, in other words, the one typing the blogs. When I made the name, I wanted to give it a sense of: "This is me, who I really am underneath all the fake smiles, the pitiable laughs, and the mask that I've created to shield myself from the rest of the world. I don't want to hide any longer; I want to prove to myself that the person I've created through these 17 years of my life is not all of who I am - that there is a part of me I've hidden from myself." This kind of feeling that I tried to convey through those cryptic words was something even I didn't understand as I wrote them. (Most of the weird phrases I write are like that - I try to find the meaning in my words long after I've written them, even if at the time, they were just words that needed to leave my mind through writing.) "Without all of me here" to me means that the me now and the me in the words on my blog are two different people. I know that the words I write tend to be very confusing sometimes, but as long as this place stays online, there's also the hope that in the future, when things have (hopefully) changed, I can look back at this place and realize that the me now was never an illusion, that the memories that I am cursed to forget are hidden in these words, a secret message only I will understand. I don't want to forget the pain I've gone through; these harsh emotions are what have made me the person I am so proud of. I want to make sure that anyone who reads this blog knows that no matter how much time passes, or what depressing things I might write on this blog, I will never resent myself, regret the life I've lived and the choices I've made, never let go of my little bit of hope I have left, and above all, I will never end my own life because of the emotions I convey through this blog or harbor within me.

This place is my haven; a place I use for release and it is something I hold dear to me. I will never forsake the words I've written here and I hope that maybe these words will tell someone else out there in this vast world, that they aren't the only one with fears and pain held deep within their hearts. This life that we have been granted is long, and the right to end it will never be our own - if we were to have that right, then the lives of the people around us would also have ended, and the life they would have lived with us in it would never be recognized. I won't tell all of the people that read this blog that life is something that is "precious and should be treasured" because the life they live may not be "precious" or "treasured" by them. They may hate their lives, or resent their own existence and I have no right to tell them not to. All I can do is say that, the life they live is not their own, that the life they live is the life of their future selves, and if they take away that life, then they are unfit to dream or hold hope in their hearts. The words "precious" and "treasured" mean that the life they live is something they have pride in, it is not, nor should it ever be, the opinion of someone from the sidelines who is unable to change their experiences or their fate. The words mean nothing if the person holding that life does not say it themselves and truly believe it.

When I first realized this truth, I was scared, frightened that I wouldn't be able to change what would happen, and my fears were right. I have no way to change the events that are carved in time even before I ever existed. However, I have the ability to change how I experience those events. For example, if I had suddenly seen someone get severely injured in front of me, that experience could shock me or even traumatize me. Or, I could see my chance to use the knowledge I have gained by taking a first-aid training class and help that person possible saving their life. You see, the event that I couldn't change was the fact that the person got severely injured right in front of me. However, the difference between the two is, in one time frame, I am unable to help them because I don't have the knowledge I would have gained by taking the training class because I didn't ever take it. In another, I took the class, and was able to help them. The part that I chose was taking the class or not taking the class - in other words, I chose how I would experience this unchangeable event that happened in my life. (Note: This has happened before, and instead of being traumatized, I am glad I was there to see the event and help out in any way I could.) I love the fact that I have the ability to do that. I call this "Fate and Destiny." I believe that a person's destiny is unchangeable (or the "event"that I spoke of above), but fate (the course of events that make up destiny - the "way someone experiences something" in the example above) is something only the one who lives that destiny is able to chose and make into reality.

-----In the end, I got a little (okay, maybe a lot) off topic, but my point is, now you know. If anything in my blog can change the way someone thinks, then my life won't be the only one saved by the words I write.