Sweet Assault and Pepper

I can still taste the day in my mouth
Your words in my head smell so sweet
I still imagine my head on your chest
Your hands caress, pressing my ear to your cheek

And I,
I wish I had the chance
To turn back time and do the right thing
I wish I hope I dream
You'll see me in a new light tomorrow.

The world is at your fingertips, and so is your next true love.

Your heart is fragile; handle with care.

Someone close to your heart is looking to get closer.

Remember, it's the thought that counts.

Forget about being upset. Remember who you care for.

If you're looking for love, relax, and the world will be your oyster.

Keep in your heart those who have helped you out. They should be there forever.

Take a chance. We are all young only once.

You have a strong heart and brave soul. Strengthen the hearts of others.

Forget about that ingenious display of dork on the last entry.

I apologize, it just seemed like a good idea at the time.
Like most things.

I'm happy! I'm feeling good, I'm just in this weird funk again.
Not a bad funk. A confusing funk. I promise! :)


Who got da funk? :)

So here's the deal. I think I should write a little musical around this piece. I wrote it on the fly, and it's very pretty once you know the music.



Nice, eh?

Simple hands held tightly
I want to get to know you better
Give me a chance to get behind the mystery
Pry it open, keep you open
Want you to get to know me better
Get inside my head, and see who I really am
We're ahead of ourselves
The warmth, pressing, shows
I can't be something true
Something real
Something ordinary
And you are the sun,
Something shrouded in ideas and theories
Who, what, where are you?

There's nothing that could have stopped her from making that choice
It really was that easy
But chance doesn't come so easily to those who want it most
There was no prize in the end
No pretty boy
No loving hand to hold
No love story to be told
I can't decide whether I
Wrote this story
Or if it's someone else who took the pen
Who took the pen and wrote me in this book
The pages worn away
My hand is torn away from yours
And I was nothing worthy of you
Just a played game and something sweet
Between your meals
To snack completely on my intentions
Please mention next time
What I'm worth to you

I went to see a REPO! Shadowcasting yesterday. With my mother.

Never do this. Ever again.
Not unless my mother miraculously changes personalities.

Not to say it was a disaster, but it wasn't as smooth as I thought it would be.

We arrived 5 minutes later than the dictated opening time, passing various groups of people on the way. It took about one minute to get from the train station to the theatre, but it intrigued me how different everything is at night.

The smell.
The look.
The sounds.

Mother and I passed by a few cybergoths and punks.
A girl in huge platform shoes with striped socks and menacing ponytails, looking like she was bored. Another girl looking similar in expression and garb, but almost as if she were stalking prey, perhaps some kind of rush for the night. A rave? Probably not. But there was something there, something that she wanted.

We arrived at the theater. The line was moving slowly, so I was able to observe the many types of fans there that night. People dressed up. People dressed down. People just dressed, like they made a last-minute decision to go to the show. Then it was there. The thick feeling of dormant excitement. Someone famous was nearby.

Darren Lynn Bousman. He was huddled with a slim blonde and Spooky Dan. I was practically blinded by Spooky's video camera. He was most likely shooting footage for his next documentary. They all looked...busy. I didn't want to bother them. My mother told me to ask for a picture, but I refused. I didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on.

We passed them a second time, and he was smoking. Again, I didn't want to bother the man.

Mom and I went inside, took our seats. He passed us in the aisle not once, but twice.

He took his seat not much later...three rows behind us.
I'll never forgive myself...until RRT4.

This morning I got an invitation to a group with a title along the lines of "WE WILL NEVER DENY GOD, WE WILL NEVER TAKE THE V-CHIP!" or something equally as obnoxious as that. This seriously confused me, considering the fact that a V-Chip is something that allows parents to control what their children watch on television. And what god-fearing christian wouldn't want total control over their hatchlings?

So I decided to investigate by first ignoring the invitation (because I knew immediately that this wouldn't be something I'd want to be part of) and snooping around the info/pictures section to see what they really meant. It turns out they're talking about the VeriChip.

So there's this whole thing about how it's the mark of the beast, blah, blah, blah, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Listen, I think it's nice that you're showing some common interest again, hxc christians. But seriously? Why can't you be reasonable when you do it?

I can hear it now. "Quit bashing christians as a whole. Not all of us are like that." You know how I know you're gonna say that? Because I'm one of the people who says this all the time. But now I just can't bother. I can't bother to defend people who won't think hard about something before they make a statement.

I mean it's one thing if you don't want to be tracked, but relating this to the mark of the beast is something completely different.

"Look, it's time to sleep. You're exhausted."
"No, no...there's something not right."
"Just be quiet and go to bed."
"No, I have to figure it out. Was it just something--"
"Stop it. Go to sleep."
"...I just want to know."
"What?"

"I just want to know why. Why did it happen this way? Why does everything happen for a reason?"
"I can't really answer that question."
"Why? What is it that she has that I don't?"
"Look, it's not your fault."
"I have to figure this out. Is he going to be happy forever?"
"We have no way of knowing. But you just have to be happy with what you're doing right now."
"How can I? You saw everything that happened right after...you saw the way they were together. It was all just a clever ruse for him to leave you. He's not going to do the same thing to her, I guarantee."
"...I can't help you right now. Only you can help yourself."


I've become more than one
Split down the middle by sadness
Eyes heavy I struggle
My mind is not mine

If there's ever a time i'm upset, it's today.

Why can't some people just shut up and start listening? Or why can't people ask questions that don't paint me into a dark corner with a bright red "X" on the floor? The sandbag's ready to fall on-- wait. There it is. It's already been cut. I'm squashed. The sandbag says "YOU DON'T MATTER, AND NEVER WILL". Is it true? Probably not. But since I can't say much from under this gargantuan burlap sack, nobody'll know.

Well cut me up and salt me down.
I don't think I'll stay around.
I'll bleed on your fresh sweet face
Nail your feet right into place
Keep it up I'll beat you down
Convince me to cut around
The veins that pump the venom blood

It's sickening how quickly the negativity can spread. One thing falls, and before you know it you're thinking about things that don't make sense. Everything kinda tumbles out onto the floor...the dirty laundry, the old papers, the dirty plates, they're all in a steaming heap and you no longer know what's what, who's who, and why there are chicken bones on your favourite sweater.

Then it starts stewing. You're making Sweet 'n' Sour Old Chicken Sweater-and-Jean Soup with missing english journal entries for garnishing. I'm going to try my best not to let my room get messy tonight.


On another note, the day at least started off well. Much like the past three to four days have. I get on the bus, and like a shining beacon of light, Rob's there up in the back as usual. It takes Try #2 to get eye contact to be made, but at least I didn't have to stray past a Third and call over to him.

I sat beside him. Thank whatever higher entities exist that it wasn't overly awkward. But that's thanks to the fact that we still had a quasi-continuing conversation going on at the time.* We converse a bit, then I take out the band log.* I, yet again, get positive feedback. There's a bit of a lull in the conversation a few more times, but he breaks the tension by playing something from Cannibal Corpse out loud and slowly moving it closer to the ear of the person sitting directly in front of me. Then he goes "I don't do stupid shit when I'm by myself, just so you know."

You see? The day wasn't that bad. I had pizza for lunch.
I kinda/sorta/almost fell asleep in French.
Mediocre day I guess.

Then, as I paced up and down a small stretch of Kipling between my school and the other one, I saw him and her, and I kept repeating to myself "Everything happens for a reason," in my head. Which is true. Everything does happen for a reason. I was pondering for a short time, and I felt a dead part of me wanting to cry...but I didn't. I was happy for them. I have to change my behaviour in order to feel better. And I'll do just that. I'll keep myself distracted.

Pretty boy
Nice hair
Go away
Leave me
Maybe we'll
Talk again
'Nother day
Find a way to keep it to myself
I want some help.

He makes me happy. And like that show said, we have history. But we were just meant to be together in a different way. Which is why I should be happy for my friend.

I feel amazing.

I feel like nothing's gonna stop me now.

I feel like everything's finally going my way, even when it's not.

My life is on track. I'm setting things down in cement, carving it in stone.
Not putting them in water and writing them in sand.


See things in still waters
The banks calming down
Face near the ground
I'll still be around
I'm loving this life and fearing no man
Because I am
Because I can
I feel the heartbeat that is mine
And that is fine
Don't intertwine me with one other
People still forget
Better yet
They regret
Everything they are.

I feel so amazing I could scream it out from the top of my lungs!

I need a sieve for my thoughts.
I don't know what's up and what's down anymore.

I don't even know what I want.
Except for the fact that I want my chronological and mental ages to match up.

I can't help but act a certain way, even if I think differently.

I don't want to mope, but for some reason the silliest things get to me.


Then again, it was something silly.
A little teenage thing that shouldn't matter. And won't, in time.
But why is it that I can't forget about it all?

I want it drained. I want all the envious emotions drained.
I can't expect to be a friend if I keep doing these things. Saying these things. Thinking these things.
I'm still not over it completely. Yeah, I said it was alright that we went our separate ways. Yeah, I said I was finally okay with everything I saw, but those were all lies. I was saying it to make you happy. Not that you already aren't, as you said.

But you obviously are.

And I don't want to put myself down, (because you'll most likely compliment me in ways that are inappropriate) but I know that she's better. She's prettier. She's most likely more interesting and less smothering. I can say many more things that make her more than me.

And that's just me justifying why you came back.
Why you said "no".
Why I think you're lying.
Why...all of this makes no sense.
Why it had to happen, and I wasn't told.

And it's not okay. Not at all. It's never been okay. There's still a bunch of stuff I want to ask you.

1) When I asked you if anything you said was a lie, I even meant that whole thing about why you didn't want to try again. So...what was that about not wanting to hurt me?
2) Was that just to brush me off lightly? Because it hit really hard.
3) Does all of this mean that I was just some appetizer in between meals?
4) Is it irritating when I ask these questions? Because I could ask a whole lot more. These are all way past due, and the reason why I didn't ask in the first place was because I didn't want to disturb you.

Disturb you? That's near impossible, isn't it? Because you're always in your little bubble. A little bubble that doesn't pop no matter what. Once you're happy, nobody else matters. Nobody's problems are really problems, are they? Nobody can let off a little steam on you. Everyone's below you. Like you're some sick kind of monarch. With your most recent queen. But one can only know of the coronation by word of mouth. I'm apparently too lowly to deserve direct notification of things like this when it matters. Like when the king entertains the handmaiden with the idea of becoming queen. Even if it's something brief and playful, it still puts hopes into the maiden's heart, hopes of have, would have, and could have been. But she continues her work as if nothing happened. But she sings as she works, a small, quiet song of sadness and worry. What will she do next? Where will she go? How can she stand working for someone who she should have hateful spite for? Because she feels attached to her lord.

Yes, I've used that wording. I've said "queen" and "monarch" and "her lord". Not because I look up to you in that way. But because that's how we interact 90% of the time. I cannot count the times you've called me "good girl". It's not that I dislike it. I enjoy praise. But...why "good girl" why not something else? Something different? Unless that's the only thing you can say to me.

Please, I beg you. Just tell me one thing, at least.

What do I mean to you?

Veronica

No longer shall be shrouded in the mystery that is her last name,
Nor covered with the label that is meant for respect,
But revealed with the light that is inspiration.
A lighthouse at sea, where the souls make eye contact.
A person.
A human.
A depersonalized soul.
Detached by necessity.
The pupils poke fun and irritate, while I watch, detached.
What is this?
A time for thought? A time for fight or flight?
What is it to be in the comfy chair and roll,
Look to these fresh-faced canvasses and sigh?

A short entry today.

To see the one you love
Become the one you loven't
Is spiteful to your heart
And as if he wasn't.
For, strong, you must move on
And take your fately ways
Invest in something sweet
'Til all your ending days.
I take thee as a friend
and no, not one thing more
Or I'll take you as a lover
When you throw me from your door.

Oh blogosphere, how I missed you so. It's been near eternity since I've posted a blog entry on anything, and it's feeling a bit weird to do so.

My life has changed phenomonally since my last post. Which was in June.

And yet, I feel my enthusiasm for aimlessly writing to the internet without an audience has since declined.

Here's something important: I'm auditioning for a school play called Uncool.
Typical teenage drama.
I'll get the part, hopefully.