I'm Sorry

I'm sorry Nicole, I really am. I know I was acting like a douche and... you don't deserve that.

I'm happy for you, if you want to date her.

Little Bee

Recently, I picked up a great book. It's called "Little Bee". And though I'm only on the second chapter, there's a passage that I really liked. Here it is:

"On the girl's brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do these scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived."

Spring

I love spring. It’s a time of new beginnings, when things once dormant begin to show themselves and awaken. I know how horribly cliché that sounds. But it’s true.

In spring, the trees begin to turn green and they look so pretty, so fresh and alive. They give me hope, because if they can go from looking– maybe almost being- dead, why can’t I?

And then there’s my favorite part of all, the spring thunderstorms. I love falling asleep to them most of all. The hard patter of rain on the roof like a mother’s lullaby, the bright flash of lightening to keep the bad things away away, the monstrous clap of thunder a soothing father’s voice.

Yes, I love the spring. Everything about it screams rebirth and hope. And it is in spring that I wish for those things for myself- and relief from my allergies.

Aftershocks

Your heart is in your chest again, not hanging from your sleeve
They've driven out the demons and they've earned you this reprieve
The memories are gone. The aftershocks live on

These are lyrics from the song aftershocks from the musical Next to Normal, a fabulous musical. I've never seen it on Broadway, but I've seen snippets of it from YouTube. It's one of the most original musicals to ever be created however, I'm sure of that. The musical score is more rock then most songs to hit Broadway.

Basic plot: Diana, a suburban mother suddenly goes crazy one night while waiting with her husband Dan and daughter Natalie for her son Gabe to come home. In the ensuing weeks, Diana goes to see her doctor. He gives her some medicine, but once Diana sees Natalie falling in love, she realizes that after being numb from the medicine, she misses feeling the highs and the lows. With Gabe's encouragement, she flushes her meds.

However, Gabe is not actually alive, he died before Natalie was born and is now a ghost which only Diana can see. Diana goes to another doctor, who suggests getting to the root of the problem. Gabe decides to invite her to come live with him, and Diana attempts suicide. Dr. Madden suggests electroconvulsive therapy which Diana does, although unwillingly. She loses her memory and remembers nothing, but still sees Gabe. She gives up treatment after having a fight with Dan, wondering why he stays with her through it all. Diana leaves Dan, knowing he can't always be there to pick her up. Dan goes to see Dr. Madden, hoping for news on Diana and also to talk about his problems. Natalie and Henry, the man she's fallen in love with, are together and Gabe watches over them all.

Anyway, to the point of this post. I love the song Aftershocks from this musical. I have no idea why. Maybe it's because through the words, I can see the hidden meaning underneath the words.

They've managed to get rid of me, returned me to the grave
ECT, electric chair, we shock who we can't save
They've cleared you of my memory and many more as well
You may have wanted some of them but who can ever tell
Your brainwaves are more regular, the chemistry more pure
The headaches and the nausea will pass and you'll endure
You son is gone forever though, of that the doctor's sure
The memories will wane, the aftershocks remain
You wonder which is worse, the symptom or the cure

They've managed to get rid of me. I'm gone without a trace
But sear the soul and leave scar no treatment can erase
They've cut away the cancer but forgot to fill the hole
They moved me from your memory, I'm still there in your soul
Your life goes back to normal now, or so they all believe
Your heart is in your chest again, not hanging from your sleeve
They've driven out the demons and they've earned you this reprieve
The memories are gone. The aftershocks live on
But with nothing to remember, is there nothing left to grieve?

And finally, I'll leave you with the song from the musical: here

Disney Movies

So, I have to tell you, that right now I'm watching Mulan. It's always been my favorite Disney movie, for more reasons then I think are apparent to me right at this moment. I love the fact that she doesn't care that she's a girl, she goes to join the army anyway. It's also based on a true story, but so are a lot of Disney movies. But most of all, it has my favorite Disney song ever (I'll Make a Man Out of You) in it.

As most of the people who read this blog know, I love Disney movies. Love them. Mostly for the songs, but also for the happy endings. I'm all about the happily ever after, the princess ending up with her prince. It gives me hope, I guess. Or maybe I'm just one of those little girls who play house with the reluctant boy next door at heart.

Still, I have major problems with the movie Snow White. Shall I list them for you?

1. Snow White is so dainty, she doesn't look human. She looks like some kind of fairy.

2. The Queen is pretty and is one of the only characters that look real.

3. She turns into an ugly crone to get Snow White and be the fairest in the land. How the hell does that make sense?

4. The Prince barely knows Snow White and he loves her

5. What kind of name is Snow White anyway?

6. The Prince barely speaks

7. The Prince doesn't save Snow White, the dwarves do. The Prince just kisses her, making him a bit of a necrophiliac.

8. They ride off into a sunset where a castle floats out from the clouds.

As you can see, I have some problems with Snow White. xD Still, I have to say that Disney movies make me remember the little child that's still somewhere inside of me. I love that little girl, just as I'm sure everyone has these little child inside of them that wants to be a princess.

Another Cheesy Post

All of us, at some point in our lives have known or will know a person that change your life so completely, you'll never be the same again. For better or for worse, whatever the case may be. And while it seems that these people come once in a lifetime, I've managed to find three. But to talk about all of them would make this post ridiculously long. Besides, you've already heard about two of them. I'm starting to think it wasn't a great misstep on my part not to write about this person the moment I started this blog. So here we go.

I'm not going to mention names, but this person has been with me for... well, it feels like forever. She's a complex person- I didn't realize just how complex when I first met her. Back then, I think she was a bit scared of me. Which, truthfully, is deserved because back then, I was more immature then I am now. (I know right? Shocker!) Still, she stuck with me, and though she was much older then I (not to mention much more knowledgeable) As I talked to this person more and more, I grew to like her, maybe quicker then what was deemed normal. But as everyone knows, when you feel something, it's hard to stop it. Still, I couldn't help myself. And I'm glad I didn't, or else we wouldn't be where we are today. I talk to her pretty much every day- and when I miss a day, I feel really sad. This person has ingrained herself to my life, and there's no way I'm going to try and move her.

She makes me think about things and question that which I think is right to the point where I'm a bit uncomfortable. Still, I enjoy this, because questioning things can't possibly be all that bad. If you stop questioning, you're not really living your life to the fullest. I respect her opinion more then anyone else's, and anything she thinks I should try, I will even if I only do it once.

I'm proud to call this person my friend. She's so amazing in so many ways that this post could be much longer then it is. But I'll stop because I don't want her to die for embarrassment. In the end, I guess that I can really say is: I love you.

So...

Have you ever had something pop into your head one day that intrigued you? It comes out of no where, has nothing to do with whatever's going on, but it's such a fascinating topic that you want to roll with the idea and let your mind take you wherever it feels the need to go. My artist or writer friends know what I'm talking about. And even if you're not an artist or a writer (maybe you're a dancer, or you knit, whatever, so long as you do something creative) you can see what I'm getting at here.

Back to the point of this post. So the other day I had a character pop into my head that just absolutely captured my interest. I have no idea where she came from, but I just had to know more about the girl called Envy. She embodied the emotion that gave her her name, and along with Envy came Love, Jealousy, Rage, Misery and a whole cast of characters. In fact, a whole world was born inside my head. And I'm excited, because this land is so enrapturing.

I've tried to write a book before, and let's just say that it didn't go well. Still, I think maybe I'll try again, with this new world that's been opened to me. It's so exciting all I can do is *squee!*

Less Than Three

My best friend Robyn is probably one of the happiest, kindest and silliest individuals I have ever met. I'm very fortunate to have her in my life. She's been nothing but a light since I met her on a Harry Potter RPG 8 months ago. She's always been there and always hears me out. I can be as silly as I want and she won't think of me as childish or immature. We have a lot of inside jokes, such as the fact that more often then not, I call her Robeh and not Robyn. We share the same problems (troublesome parents, annoying siblings) and although she's 4 years older then me, we're besties. She can be wise beyond her years or silly with me. Either way, I love her more then I can express. Love you bb.

Today my best friend
wrote love on my hand.
And I had to wonder
Does she really
love
me?

Does the heart even know if
what it feels is true or
not? How can we know
if this is the
truth?

I don't know and most
of the time, it does
not matter one bit.
Because it is
enough in
this

moment.

Three Letters

NHD.

*shudder*

These letters have become the most hated letters in the alphabet to all the Honors History students in my school, and maybe even all over the world.

Why, you ask, do you hate these letters so much? What do they stand for?

Well, NHD stands for National History Day. In short, this is Hell on earth. You have four months to do a paper, a documentary, an exhibit or a presentation about something that fits with the theme for this year. Our theme was innovations. Sounds simple, right?

WRONG! The demon judges, or "teachers", tear apart everything you do, anything at all creative. They're perverted, choosing something that doesn't even fit the theme but shows off a teen girl's body for the highest grade. That's right- our perverted history teachers have decided that the Little Black Dress is more of an contribution to society then the violin, the camera, the clock, or duct tape. How in the world does that make any sort of sense?

I wrote a paper, while most of my friends did a presentation or a documentary. They had to stand in front of the three demons, answering the most ridiculous questions, often the same question more then once. I had to wait for two months upon handing my paper in, seeing no one's face and answering no questions. And you know what? I received my paper back and got 10 points off for putting a little joke at the end, trying to make it not so monotonous for my teacher. Haha, joke's on me. This people have no souls, they will not find your jokes funny. Instead they'll reduce your grade by more and take off an additional 20 points because they didn't like my writing style. (If, by now, you're not going WHAT THE HELL IS THEIR PROBLEM?!?!, you obviously need to get your head out of your ass and see just how unfair this really is.)

But you know what? I ended up getting a better grade then most people. 131 out of 200 possible points. That's a 66%. And I'm happy with this, especially when I hear of people who put just as much time and effort and love into their project as I did coming out with 50%'s. There was one kid who got 16% on this thing. So I'm pretty content with what I got, but there was so much anger and hatred going around the school today. You instantly knew when someone had just gotten their NHD grade back by the shocked, horrified or angry expression on their face. Angry because many feel they deserve better. Shocked because they thought they did good or horrified at the thought of telling their parents about their bad grade. This is currently what I'm feeling.

I feel I must warn you that if you don't hear from me, I've been killed by my mother. It was nice knowing you people.

Love,
Heather

P.S.

If anyone reads this and is about to choose their courses for their 10th grade year, do not, I repeat, DO NOT take Honors History if you want to keep your soul.

.:QuOtE:.

"There are three types of family: Those we are born to, those that are born to us, and those we let into our hearts." - Simi

I have no idea when I first read this quote, but from that moment on I've remembered it. And I've found that it only grows truer with time.

.:My OwN vErSiOn Of ALiCe In WoNdErLaNd:.

.:PiAnOs:.

I am, by no means, an expert on the piano. I played for two years, back in 5th and 6th grade. Then I quit for two, and then I started back up again about 2 years ago. My family has a shortboard piano, meaning it's missing an octave on both sides. And we just bought a new one.

Now, this is going to sound really weird. But I'm sad to see my old piano go. If you're a music fanatic, you know what I mean. Each instrument has it's own personality. It's own quirks and you've just got to figure those out. Some name their instruments and I'm afraid to say I'm one of those people. I've named the one I have currently Maria. The one I'm getting now is George. I think. I don't know; I haven't dealt with it enough to know.

Now yeah, I know. How can a piano or any instrument have a personality? Well, they do. For instance, Maria's petal squeaks and it sounds like someone's whistling. I just think that's her way of singing along. Everyone likes to sing along to music they know. And that's what Maria likes to do. She also likes to shake my one A key. And when I mean shake, I mean it sounds a bit tinny and sometimes sticks. I just take this as one of her quirks and pick the key up.

So, whether you think I'm right or I'm just crazy, you really need to figure out for yourself. The bond between a person and their instrument is a deep one.

.:ShOrT StOrY:.

I like to write, a lot. Mostly short stories, so I thought I'd share one with you.

"I'm sorry!" she screamed, gripping the desk in front of her so hard her knuckles turned white. Tears streamed from teal-colored eyes, but the panel of judges in front of her remained unmoved.

The room was pure white- it was the same classroom she was forced to sit in day in and day out. There was no color to the room beyond what she and the judges brought. As if color would somehow distract from learning and not open the mind, as it was often wont to do.

Before her stood a long, gray table behind which the judges sat. As if their stern but cool expressions weren't enough to terrify the girl, the child, they were present on the faces of the ones she loved the most. The ones she'd always feared to disappoint. They sat at that table- her mother, her father, her two dearest friends, and at the very center, her sister. Before her sister was a small but ominous red button.

As soon as she had been led into the room and shown to her desk, the questions had stared. All manner of questions about all kinds of subjects. Geography, maths, English, her thoughts, her feelings, science, history, her views. She'd answered every one right, to her own amazement. But then they asked her one she didn't know. She'd stare at them in blank terror. They waited and waited until finally her father asked: "Well?"

"I-I-I-" she stuttered, voice cracking as her eyes started to burn and then shine with unshed tears. "I don't know," she whispered finally.

There was a quiet murmur between the judges. But not her sister. All she could see was disapprovement and that cut through her heart like the sharpest knife. The others feel deadly silent as her sister spoke.

"That is an unacceptable answer," she said coldly. An index finger hovered over the button, just centimeters away. Fear gripped the child's heart as hard as she gripped the desk.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, tears falling freely. "I'm sorry-" she broke into sobs, unable to speak any more.

"I'm very disappointed in you," her sister said, as if they were the only two in the room. The finger closed the distance between it and the button.

Beneath the girl, the floor slowly pulled back, extreme heat rising. The desk started to tip and fall. She screamed and tried to grab onto anything possible, anything that would keep her out of the flames below. Out of Hell.

Her hands caught the edge of the pit in an effort to save herself as the desk fell into the flames and never did she stop screaming. "Sister! Sister!" she screamed, tears fizzling off her cheeks in the heat.

She heard the footsteps and looked up, into the face of her sister. The cold blue eyes bored into hers. "Yes?" she asked with no emotion.

"Save me," the child pleaded. "Please. I love you."

For a long moment their eyes locked and held. In the child's eyes, the sister saw nothing but pleading, hope and love, even in the face of death. In the sister's eyes, the child saw a perfect mask in place over the emotions of the elder, blue eyes freezing the other.

"No," the sister said, raising her foot to stomp on the fingers of the girl.

With a cry of anguish straight from her soul, the child dropped into the bowels of Hell. The last thing she saw was the unmoved expression on her beloved sister's face.

.:NiGhTmArEs CoNtInUeD:.

Lately, my nightmare has started to change. I was starting to be able to deal with the original, to sleep through it even though it scares me to death. Or well, scared.

Lately, instead of just including my biological family, it's including my adoptive family, or the ones I consider family even if they're not related. This includes Blake, Danica and Robyn. Let me quote some of the dream:

I'm on the ground, flames all around and I'm being raped by some demon man. He always laughs evilly at this point, and gestures in front of me. I look up to see the three of them there, surrounded by flames. They all glare at me and Danica says: "You could have stopped this, all of this." They're all raped, then Danica and Robyn scream and their skin melts off their bodies, and they turn to ash.

Blake however, continues to live. She has free reign and comes over to me, grabs my chin and pulls it up roughly. Then she slaps me across the face and spits in my eye. Finally she says (in German, which I don't know how she knows German) "I never loved you, it was always just to satisfy your stupid childish hopes." Then she pokes my eyes out so I'm blind, and for the rest of the dream all I can feel are the flames licking my skin and being raped by the demon man. All I can hear is his laughter and all I can taste are my tears.

.:My EvErYdAy LiFe:.

My life. It's nothing special. And I don't even know why I'm writing this, telling you about an average day in my life. Maybe because I felt the sudden urge, who knows? But here it goes.

Monday~

I wake up at 6:16 a.m. I hate waking up early, especially after sleeping so long over the weekend. I love sleep. My record is 17 hours straight, although I don't know if that's something to be proud of.

I get dressed in whatever clothes I feel like for the day. I took a shower the night before, so after going to the bathroom and brushing my hair, I go downstairs at 6:30. I have a pop-tart, whatever flavor I'm feeling like that day. I eat, then go upstairs and brush my teeth. I don't usually wear make-up, or my contacts, but if I'm feeling in the mood, I'll do both. Then i go downstairs again and put on my shoes, and laze around until I catch the bus at 7:04.

Arrive at school around 7:35, I go to my locker, listening to my ipod. I'd die without music; it's pretty much my life. I might send a text to Robyn and/or Blake, depending on if I have time.

At 7:40 I head to homeroom, sitting at a table with my ex-best friend from 2nd grade and my ex-douche of a boyfriend from last year. The ex-bff, Chelsea, is now preppy and she bothers me to death. She's the only girl companion at my table, so I talk to her more then anyone else. The ex-douche is Chase, and I don't normally speak to him at all. He doesn't speak to me either. There are two other guys, Dave and Sean. Sean has decided it's funny to nickname me "Bitch". I ignore him, he's a childish bastard anyway. Dave is a stoner, addicted to a lot of drugs. I'll talk to him, sometimes, if I'm feeling in the mood.

As the bell rings, I head to first period History, walking with my friend Ashley. We'll catch up on what happened over the weekend, until she has to leave. My History teacher is pretty awesome although we all suspect she's gay.

Then, I head to second period which is Microsoft Word Certification. I don't have any friends in that class, but I type fast and I get done early, so I'm allowed to fool around on the computer.

Third period comes and I find myself in English. My teacher has a soothing voice and I often have to stop myself from falling asleep. There's this one girl in there that really irks me. She thinks she knows everything about everything, and denies my ideas vehemently. She claims to be my friend, but I've never liked her.

Next is German, which I adore. I'm pretty good at it and I have a lot of friends in that class. We bother our German teacher, but she's a good sport about it. There are some idiots, as always, but I tend to ignore those people. I walk with my friend Mark to his locker after that class, then head to lunch. I sit with Melissa, my best friend, Ashley, Caitlin (the girl from third period) and Alyssa. Alyssa's alright, but she's too full of herself. She thinks she's hot, but she's really not. We're often joined by Joe and Brian toward the end of lunch. They're good sports and often joke with us.

Next (assuming it's not day 4 in a cycle, then I have Bio Lab) I head to Gym. We either have phys. ed. or health. Right now we have Health. We're learning about smoking, drugs, etc. I know some people who smoke, and although I'd like them to stop, it's their choice.

Seventh period is Biology, my hardest class. I hate the teacher. She never tells us all we need to know for the test, telling us that we should know ourselves. It makes me mad. I have a lot of friends in that class though. Right now we're taking care of plants. My group is growing carrots and mint. The mint's not growing too well though.

Eighth period is Maths. I hate Maths. I've never been good at it; it takes me a while to understand what everything means. The teacher's amazing though, she hands out candy and is always ready to joke with us.

Next is ninth period study hall. It's pretty boring, mostly I write or do homework. Basically, I just count down the minutes until I can get out of this place.

After the last bell rings, I go to my locker and grab my books, ignoring Sean and Dave. I pull on my red peacoat (I LOVE that coat) and head to the bus. As it starts to pull away, I text Blake, telling her I'm on my way home. I like to meet her online and talk to her- she's a big part of my life, my sister is. She's been a little depressed lately, but I'm determined to make her feel better. I can't have my big sister feeling bad.

I come home and talk to Blake, Danica, Robyn and anyone else who happens to be on until dinner time. I often have a skype call with Danica. I love hearing her voice, it's very warm and friendly (although I'm sure a lot of people wouldn't describe her as such. xD). My mother has a new rule about that, I have to be off the computer when dinner is ready. I do my homework, play the piano and eat, then spend time with my family until my mother forces me to go to bed. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't (sleep that is). My nightmares tend to keep me up at night. Blake has offered to call and read to me. I might take her up on that offer, when she's feeling better. I like hearing her voice too. It's deep and it makes me feel safe, although I've only heard it once. She thinks she sounds like an asshole on the phone, I think she sounds wonderful.

And so that's an average day in my life. Exciting huh? xD

.:WhAt I lEaRnEd AbOuT mYsElF:.

I learned that I don't want people to care about me because I'm afraid I'll hurt them inadvertently. I'd rather I be the only one to care.

Messed up, huh? :/

.:NiGhTmArEs:.

It's been 4 days since I've slept, as I write this. That's 96 hours. I'd know, I've been conscious for every one of them. I'd love to sleep. It's perhaps the thing I want most in the world, at least in this moment. Yet I know that if I do sleep, I'll dream. And I'd rather be so tired then go through that torture.

Lately, I've taken to sleeping with a knife under my mattress. As if I'm afraid the dream will come true. The knife makes me feel safer, like I could fight away the demons of the nightmare. I still can't sleep, but it calms me some.

On the upside, I got a new pair of glasses. And I look super fly.

Note: I did sleep last night, but I still had the dream. :/