so...
memorial day...
birthday (gone terribly wrong)...
his birthday is coming up...
and i want to call.
i might.
although i'd be breaking about 50 rules.
i promised, no matter what.
anyway.
this summer is a summer of change...
and with change comes new people...
people i've known, but never saw in the light i see them now.
it's scary, and it's great.
but, as always, there's a roadblock.
stupid, stupid males.
i love you so.
i wrote the following for a English assignment...
It’s raining today.
I think of times when I would sit in the rain. Laughing, happy it had finally fallen.
Unfolding a useless burden, like Anger. I used to be so angry at the World, and I kept it all bottled up inside.
But then I realized that it wasn’t worth all the broken glass.
I wonder if now is the time to go back to reality. Maybe reality hits us lightly, like rain.
But, I fear it might bowl me over like thunder.
Sleep was not achieved last year. I sat at night, perched on a chair, looking out my window.
One never knows who might show up in that thing.
I slept in my own bed last night, reading stolen conversations and love letters.
I remembered certain goodbyes, certain things I had said.
And then I quickly shut the light off so the mirror in front of me wouldn’t see me cry.
I sit and watch the rain, cleansing all the wrongs away. Thinking, watching the past behind my eyes. Memories evaporating, making me chase after them, while one who watches me slip away sings out:
“Don’t leave without telling me.
Tell me what you did, who you kid.
I can see you, because your act only works on an audience.
And I’ll follow you across this country, and across the Earth,
Just to see you end up okay, and see that I got my money’s worth.”
Their words in my stomach, forcing sounds of words up from my diaphragm.
So, I guess this is being deep. I know not of what I should have said, although I have been through it. And, as we have times before, we’ll mourn alone.
I wonder where they are right now.
I know where they are right now.
And, for now I don’t care.
Oh, the places you’ll go.
Oh, the places you’ve been.
Oh, the places you’re in…
Without me.
It’s their freedom, although it has been bought and paid for.
So, if nothing is free, and we are not allowed to use our freedom of speech without paying a price,
Our freedoms are limited by freedoms.
Only by our own fault, because we have been too reckless not to be stupid about our freedom.
The rain pours on. I stick my hands out the window to try and catch the raindrops.
The clouds are letting go of their frustrations, bleeding just a bit.
They know to not be afraid to bleed a little if it means it’ll save their life.
Or else, you might go mad.
Those who are blind, deaf and dumb are driven mad by Gods existing only in the mind.
Gods never touching to heal, and prove miracles wrong. No more contact to make existence easier.
Water pools in the crevices of my two palms.
Perhaps I’ll wait to wake up to reality until it never rains anymore.
It might be nice. It’s been a while, and I used to miss talking to them.
But then I realized that they never said much to begin with.
They didn’t break my heart, they only cracked it a little.
But, still, just enough for the rain to sting a bit.
As it rains though the night, I consider closing the window.
But, I rest instead, vowing in my dreams to never seek comfort in the wooden frame that encases shards of broken glass. I keep true to that vow, at least until morning.
For in the morning, when I wake, I’ll look out it once again.
The sun will be there, already past the spot where it hits the glass in a way so it scatters rainbows all over the room.
Today is not the day to see those rainbows.
Feel Something...Anything: 
torn
What're You Singing Yourself To Sleep With?: "ghost of you"...stupidstupidstupidmales
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cold
its 4:23 am + i'm effing wired
contemplative
artistic
apathetic
ugh