Roxberry fixes everything.. Right?..

I made plans with him four days ago

he blew me off again

I'm fine

He's with her

he said we'd go to chick-fil-a

I'm fine

I just left the food at his house

I'm fine

"Can you give him this note for me when he gets home?"

I'm fine 

"I'm just gonna go now, tell him I said happy birthday."

I'm fine

He's not worth crying over

I'm fine

I'm fine 

IM FINE 

(or at least I'm trying to be)

He said he'll make it up to me with a Roxberry. 

I told him I didn't want him to buy me things

I just wanted him to spend time with me.

I asked him if he cared about me

He said yes

I said prove it.

Human

Writing this, I am sitting in a hammock in my back yard. The sun is in my eyes, 

it's 6:10 and I'm spooning Apple sauce into my mouth. Im probably happier,  

and more content with my life than I have been in the past two weeks.

And then I went to the cemetery with my youth group where two of the kids 

in my ward were buried this last year. 

We visited their graves and sang their favorite songs to their head stones, 

I don't know if that was for us or for them but it made my lungs compress and my heart beat slower and softer but harder at the same time 

We were getting ready to leave and I told my leader I was going to get 

in the other car because I just wanted to go home.. 

And then I started bawling. 

It was mixed with screaming I guess and I wonder if I startled the other girls 

when all of a sudden I'm screaming. 

I tried to hold it in, they said let it out, but then it got stuck. 

It got stuck and it just wouldn't come out, and i couldn't breathe anymore than the dead girl from my ward. 

All the girls kept touching my back but I knew dam well that they don't care 

about me. 

Sure, their good people.. They pretend to care about me when I'm sad. I don't 

want "good people" because that feels like a pity party. Their good people, just 

not good friends.

On the drive home everyone kept saying "that was nice". I was silent but I kept 

thinking "that was not nice, that freaking hurt".

Well that makes for 2 breakdowns and 5 hours of silence today

That probably makes me pretty human.

I had a dream last night

I had a dream last night that i walked up to a bar table and my parents were drinking beer
(let it be known that my parents are very against drinking)
Their cups were filled with golden liquid and had very long rubber straws sticking out.
There was a lady talking to them about being careful to not drink too much
She said "theres two sides: drinking till your numb, and drinking till it hurts."
I turned to my dad, made spirals in his straw,
I told him, "I hope you drink till it hurts"
He turned to me surprised and asks "Why would you say that??"
I told him that feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all and walked away.

A list of my biggest fears

1. Car crashes
2.  To grow up and be just like my mom.

How to be yourself

1. Find clothes you like

2. Find music you like

3. Find restaurants you like

4. Find books/movies you enjoy

5. Find things you like to do

6. Find places you like to go

7. Now, forget what people think of you.

Forget about trying to be in with the ''cool kids'' or the ''popular crowd''.

Forget about what other people say, what they think, and how they look at you.

Find all these things you like and DO THAT.

Forget about the stereotype that goes with it.

Listen to that music, wear that style,

 Like things that are different.

 Have your own opinion. Like what you like.

Color outside the freaking lines

Be messy, be bold, be quiet

BE WHATEVER

but,

be you.

Oh to be a kid again

Oh to be a kid again

when you could color your house pink

and it didn't matter if your rainbow was 

out of order.

Oh to be a kid again

When you could run through sprinklers

and throw Pokemon down and they thought it was cute.

But five years later and throwing down Pokemon

is considered immature and nerdy.

SCHOOL KILLS CREATIVITY

It started in third grade when my teacher said:

"Why don't you try to color inside the lines

don't you think that would be prettier?"

That's when I started thinking that it was better to

color inside the lines, 

and that it was better to be just like 

everyone else

man was i wrong..

They ask me what my favorite color is
and I reply with
black.

They continue to tell me that
black is a shade not a color.

Just another person telling me that black
cannot be my favorite color,
for it simply is not a color.

Invalidated again
just for being myself.

HURRICANE WARNING

I know I'm a hurricane, but I hope you can stand your ground while I tear everything up, I hope you try and help me calm down. I hope that while my winds are blowing, you don't run away. Instead, I hope you stay, I hope you let me know I'm important. I hope that when I'm crying, you brush my hair out of my eyes, clean the tears from my cheeks, kiss my forehead and tell me I'm beautiful. Im hope you whisper "I love you".

I know I'm a hurricane, but please don't give up on me. My winds will die eventually. I know I tend to mess everything up and I'm always in the way. But if you stay a while, I promise you will see that I am beautiful. But I've got to warn you, I'm a different kind of beautiful. If you stay long enough, you will see and understand it. It's not so much the kind of pretty you would normally recognize, I'm pretty in a different way. I'm pretty  when I pour my emotions out at the piano. And although I didn't write the song, it seems as if it came straight from my soul. I'm pretty when I dance in the mirror, pumping myself up for a party of one. Im pretty in the way I think, and the things I can do, not in the way my body is shaped. I'm pretty in the way I giggle for no reason, but just because I'm happy to see you. I'm pretty in the way I bite my lip and shake my hands to keep myself from crying. And when I do cry, I'm pretty in the way my eyes turn the color of the ocean, I'm pretty in the way the tears silently roll down my cheeks, and tickle as they fall off my chin. I'm pretty in the way my mind works. I may not have the nicest body, the prettiest face, or the long shinny hair, but I will love you with everything that I have.

______________________________________________________________

I guess you weren't ready to handle my hurricane, because while I was getting ready to say I love you, you were trying to figure out how to say goodbye.

Trying on Hats

Let me just give a preface to this post, that to some of you it might reveal who I am.

     When we wear hats are we hiding part of us that we're ashamed of? Or are we just showing off something we're proud of? I think maybe a little bit of both, I get different attitudes when I wear different hats. Clothes give me different attitudes when I wear different styles. Songs give me different attitudes when their flowing through my brain veins.

So music, hats, and styles are rubbing their vibes off on me,

But what am I without all of that?

                                           I haven't written anything with the past three hats I've tried on,

           

                                                                                                           Maybe it's time for something new...