…it’s the time it takes to blow away ((Blow Away — A Fine Frenzy))

—-

I was watching One Tree Hill the other day, one of my favorite shows, and this quote was said:

Its been said that the saddest thing a man will ever face is “what might’ve been”. But what if a man is faced with what was, or what may never be, or what could no longer be? Choosing the right path is never easy, its a decision we make with only our hearts to guide us. But sometimes we find our way to something better… sometimes we fight through the regret and the remorse of our mistakes, our malice and our jealousy and the shame we feel for not being the people we were meant to be…and thats when we find our way to something better….or when something better finds its way to us.

It was a really depressing episode, or maybe it was the one before it, showing Peyton’s crash — aka possibly me in four years when I get chewed up and spit out of the music industry. I have so many fears regarding the future. The music industry is a dirty, grimy place that likes to suck the life out of music and people because of greed. I’m so afraid that I won’t make it, I’ll give up, or worst of all – that music won’t be the same to me anymore once it has put me through hell.

That wasn’t what I was going to write about though.

The holidays are coming up. While it’s my favorite time of year, it also tends to be the worst on me. It’s stressful, exhausting, and fast. I usually end up just trying to hold on and make it through day after day with the only thing holding me together being my skinny jeans.

This is my last Thanksgiving and Christmas living at home, and that really fucking scares me. I want to make it last, but I’m so busy that I feel like it’s going to fly by and all of a sudden I won’t know what happened to the time I wanted to hold on to and I’ll wind up midway through February not knowing where I’ve been or who I am.

All I want is to have a good winter. Just this once. And maybe from there I can have another and another. All I want to give thanks for this Thanksgiving is having wonderful people around me and for some strange miracle that kept me around for another year. All I want for Christmas is a little bit of warmth and maybe another dash of hope that 2010 will be better than this year, just like I wanted this one to be better than last.

….I see some flowers on a hillside, like a wall of new TVs ((Old Soul Song — Bright Eyes))

—

Here’s some word vomit/stream of consciousness. I sparked it by a line in a Motion City Soundtrack song “In memory of what we used to call in love” and went from there. Random.

In memory of what I used to call normality. Things change quickly from red to green to yellow to orange to black. Different views become different eyes and different eyes become a new person. Change, change, change.

Only pennies.

The change is running out as I use all my remaining change to buy the last color hair dye for change. Blondes have more fun, but brunettes are bitchier.

Sink my toes into a heated blanket, curl around a body pillow and watch as drama unfolds over the rim of a cup of lemon tea. Two bags. Bags and bags of candy from Halloween still haunt me.

Hauntingly slow and hauntingly new. Whispering around us all the time, so please don’t ouija in a graveyard. Okay thanks bye. Stop saying LOL.

I haven’t really laughed in a long time.

As time flies by I try to find a meaning for life, a reason to wake up in the morning instead of throwing fits of rage because I have to live. I have to.

Well, I don’t have to, but my parents are spending far too much money on my college education for me to waste it by killing myself. I’m pretty sure it’s fucked up that I think like that.

I think about a lot of things. My mind never stops. Stop hating, stop loving, stop everything for just a moment so I can catch my breaths that come faster as you approach. Breaths that I see in the cold November air. Only November, but it feels like Christmas because of the decorations at my part time job. Working, working, working.

Working for money, for a future, for something beyond these six walls closing in. Closing the door on too many good things, but a few bad ones too. I know what the handles look like so I’ll just grab hold and hold on as I swing them back and forth undecided. Decisions, decisions I don’t really know what to make of them or how to make them.

Making pumpkin cheesecake, making friends, making mistakes. Mistakes are so common, and I regret them all. Regrets. But I wouldn’t change them for anything because they make me who I am. Who am I? The girl that makes mistakes. I’m allowed to, I’m only seventeen.

Seventeen is such an odd number. Just past a license, just short of emancipation. Emaciated skeletons still hang in my closet, but they tend to come out and scare me from time to time. Times of night, at night, in my dreams, closing in, scaring me.

Scared to the point of tears with all the lights on and a blanket securing me, security security. Am I ever really safe? I don’t think so, and the things I do probably make it worse. I try to not be stupid but I really am a silly little girl.

Silly little girl pull your hair down and swing your hips a little stronger now. Straighten your back, find your confidence. Beauty isn’t just from within, but when it’s not from the outside you have to fake it till you make it. Don’t worry, just fake it. Fake it.

I feel fake and yet so authentic sometimes. It’s funny how those things happen. It’s like I’m a real fake. I’m real but I have to hide the real by faking. I don’t think I even understand myself right now.

Do I ever really understand my thoughts or myself? They just keep going and going like that stupid pink bunny. Fuck you energizer, if I want to stop I’ll stop.

Actually I don’t think I can stop, there’s too much. Too much running and circling back and running some more through my head, faster than those skinny cross country bitches.

I wish that I could be invisible for a day. Not for the usual reasons, I don’t want to disappear, I’m not that emotionally retarded yet. I’d want to slip around to all the quiet corners and watch the people who look the most upset and purposely do something retarded and supernatural so they’d see it and come alive. If I could take all the unhappy faces in the world and change them, I wouldn’t. Light and dark. Life and death. They’re all polar opposites but without one you can’t have the other. If we were happy all the fucking time we’d go insane, there must be depression in order for the happiness to be happy. Otherwise happiness would just be so ordinary.

I wish happiness was an ordinary thing for me, not a rare occasion on which things actually make sense.

To be or not to be, that’s the essential question.

…it’s resentment that time won’t stand still ((A Song for the Metalheads — Butch Walker))

—

Busy past few days.

Thursday — Up till 12 watching VMARS with Becca.

Friday — Woke up at 9 to get ready, went and took senior pictures. Went to Becca’s at 3:30. Dyed my hair (OFFICIALLY A BRUNETTE!). Dinner reservations at Kanki for Morgan’s birthday dinner with everyone at 5:30. House party at Becca’s for Morgan’s 18th started around 8:30. Drank/partied the night away. Was really trashed. Slept in a bed Casey fucked her boyfriend in.

Saturday — Got up, carved a pumpkin. Got called into work early 2:30-6:30. Planned a last minute party with all the leftover booze from the night before. Drank/partied the night away at Becca’s AGAIN. Was really trashed. Slept in a bed Ali fucked her boyfriend in.

Sunday — Woke up early and made a Breugger’s run. Car wouldn’t start because my gas guage got fucked up. Fantastic. Ran home to get ready, worked 1-5:45. Wrote a five page english paper.

So basically this weekend was a blur of booze, loud music, cigarette smoke, camera flashes, hair dye, sleeping in beds with condoms, alka-seltzer, snuggies, work, losing the back to my cell phone, and not nearly enough sleep.

Today in third period I was about one energy level from passing out completely. Not fun. But overall it’s definitely worth it. Two nights partying in a row was pretty epic. I’m still getting used to the whole “drinking out of fun and being social” thing instead of “drinking out of depression to get secluded and fucked out of my head” thing, but it was still a really fun weekend.

Things are moving fast. The first quarter of my senior year has officially ended. It’s NOVEMBER. The Christmas decorations in the mall I work at have been up for days now. It’s getting COLDER. The leaves are falling FAST. I still have to write college application essays. But I think I’ve settled on George Gershwin for my UNCA essay!

…every reassurance just magnifies the doubt ((If The Brakeman Turns My Way — Bright Eyes))

—

School spirit has had me in a good mood recently. I got to wear my senior crown, dress up, etc. Everything was fine until last night. A night that was supposed to be amazing, the last homecoming game of my high school career.

My friends and I all walked over with water bottles filled to the brim of vodka and sprite. I was feeling really great until I realized the section we were in also contained the epitome of that bad night over the summer. I decided, well, I’m only tipsy, but it’ll be easier and more acceptable if I just act really drunk so I don’t have to think about the situation I’m in.

First words to him since the summer: “I’m drunk, can I have a hug?”

Fuck. My. Life.

For the past few weeks, I have been an empty pit. I have felt no emotions. I have felt like I should feel something about something, but I didn’t actually feel it. Well towards the end of the night I sobered up for a moment, and that was all my brain needed to start the arsenal. I felt so many things at once about the awkward situation I was in and just about everything in my life. In an instant my mind shut down because of the overload and I just stopped.

I stood in a crowd of screaming teenagers for about ten minutes just blankly staring at the field. Everything was moving around me but it was like I was in an entirely different place completely. My friends all got really worried. I wouldn’t speak, and the only way I was being moved was basically being dragged.

It was as if I had burnt out a fuse, for so long I’ve been ignoring so many signs that I’m headed the wrong way. I’ve looked past everything and hid it in my head and suddenly everything exploded.

What should have been a great night quickly turned into one of my worst. I don’t even know what to do with myself right now.

…we were warm until we went to hell ((Hourglass — The Hush Sound))

—

I had a really great weekend, better than I’ve had in a while. Sunday really topped it off. The dock that I have made my home is being torn down soon, so my love and I have been hitting it up with pumpkin spice lattes at every chance we get. Sunday afternoon was spent with her and another friend laying, looking at the sky, and having a pretty intense conversation. But it was nice. We proceeded to rate girls at the mall. We had dinner, then we got a skip and a jump past toasted on wine and tequila (my parents were out-of-town for the weekend). I really hate going to school on Monday morning with a hangover, but it was definitely worth it.

But lately I can’t help but continue to feel that gnawing in the back of my mind that something in me feels off. Things are moving really fast. It’s already October. I’ve got so many important things coming up and it can feel really overwhelming at times. I’m trying to take it one step at a time, but that’s not easy.

When I feel bad, I stop and take a deep breath, hoping it will pass. It does, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold it off.

This weekend: SAT & college applications & work.

I’m so fucking nervous. I can’t fuck it up this time, I won’t have time to retake it again before my early action application is due.

…stir a sea of stars ((Golden Age — TV On The Radio))

—

Tonight is a night for birthdays and Fight Club.

I am Jack’s broken heart.

Tonight is a night for tired eyes and Chopin.

Tonight is a night for tea & a blanket.

Tonight is the beginning of a new months.

Tonight I noticed a shift in the air. In the trees.

Tonight I realized all the fireflies have disappeared.

…makes us who we are ((It Had To Be You — Motion City Soundtrack))

—

I went to the open house at UNCA today (well technically yesterday, but I’m still awake so…). There’s a few things I realized.

1. I’m more of a nerd than even I realized.

2. For the first time, it hit me that a Bachelor’s degree of SCIENCE includes basically everything I have sucked at in highschool: physics, computer science, and math. I’m an English girl to the core.

3. Auditions for the music program occur BEFORE you start school….aka in MARCH. The requirements are learning five scales to the sharps/flats, the chromatic scale, all scales with both hands to four octaves. Then there’s a Bach invention, a Classic piece like something by Mozart, and a Romantic piece like a Chopin waltz.

4. I suck at scales. I have never learned a Bach invention. I played a Chopin waltz years ago, but I’ll have to relearn it. So right now I’m at the point where I have one song to play. It’s almost OCTOBER. I have to be ready… BY FUCKING MARCH.

5. I know next to nothing about music technology. I mean, I know the basics, and I know the point is to learn it in the major, BUT I will probably be the only (or one of two) girls in the entire program which already puts me at a disadvantage in a way. I’m going to need to be on the top of my game. Or at least as gorgeous as possible so the guys will help me?

So a big part of me is freaking out.

Early application — Due November 15, haven’t started.

Recommendations for that application — have yet to be discussed.

Essay for that application — don’t even know the answer yet.

Scholarships — haven’t even started looking. HOW THE FUCK AM I GOING TO PAY FOR COLLEGE?

I’m so far in over my head. My mom was trying to tell me that if I love music I’ll work through the classes I don’t like, but the head of the department basically said it was an extremely intense program. And it has less than 50 people with all four years combined. That means IF/WHEN I fail, people will most definitely know. And recognize. AKA the main problem with “community atmosphere”.

I tried to de-stress with Gossip Girl, but all I could think about was the realization that the next four years are actually going to be quite difficult. I guess I was so excited about it that I never really thought about the logistics.

Music will be the death of me. Ironic, eh?

…”But everyone can agree on one thing: tans fade, highlights go dark, and we all get sick of sand in our shoes. But the end of summer is the beginning of a new season, so we find ourselves looking to the future…”

Summer is officially over. While that’s a good thing, because I really hate the heat, I also feel like it can be bad for me. The colder seasons have a tendency to hold darker times for me, I’m not sure why because it’s my favorite time of year, but it’s just always happened like that.

New beginnings indeed. Not quite as new as they’ll be next year, but beginnings all in all. Realizations are being made, plans are being set, and as a staple for the season: things are changing. Big time.

Big things are in the works. It’s senior fucking year. Intensity much?

It just feels like everything around me is transforming, and I feel like I’m transforming too. I’ve noticed less discrepancies in my views, I’m starting to think one way and stick with it rather than falter all over the place. I’ve noticed that the same things that bothered me in previous year either still bother me or don’t at all. I’m kind of in a self-discovery mode. I feel like I’m just so ready for a new phase, one that gets me out of the vicious cycle I’ve been in for so long. I’ve got a year until the new phase officially begins, but until then I’m going to make the last moments of this phase count.

I’ve accepted the fact that yes, I have my bad days, and that’s actually okay. Because I know that sometime, even if it doesn’t happen for a while, I’ll find a way to pull out of it. I’m finally surrounded by people I know will be able to make me smile at least once a day. I’m finally comfortable with myself socially (for the most part, I’m still fucking awkward). I’m finally realizing that things may not be as bad as they seem. I mean, I know when they’re going on they seem horrific but that’s because I’m biased by what’s going on around me. When I step away at the first chance I can see things on a much bigger scale.

I’m mentally exhausted though. I feel like too much has rushed around and shifted in too short a time span, and too much drama has bombarded it as well.

I have a headache from all the commotion. But at least I’m feeling something. I’ve been going too long going through periods where I become numb and nothing matters or everything is too overwhelming. It’s frustrating, but I know it’s going to happen so I’m somewhat prepared for it.

I’m getting that feeling again though, the one that says “Hey! Bad shit’s coming your way!”. I hate it mostly because it’s the anticipation that kills me. I don’t know when I’ll go under, just that I will. I don’t know how long it’s going to last, but I know that I’ll get pulled back out eventually.

Because I do have people surrounding me, and despite my flaws, they love me. In the end, I think that’s the most important thing for me to remember.

…again, again you want me to fall on my head ((Zombie — Taylor Momsen))

The new Taylor I look like now with my shorter hair apparently. From Taylor Swift to Taylor Momsen? They’re both gorgeous, so I’m okay with it.

—

I am so fucking exhausted.

It’s back to the real world tomorrow. I’ve been smelling like dog and waking up early for far too long. Next weekend will be what I am referring to as “College Weekend”. Open house on Saturday at UNCA. Sunday my love and I are doing our applications. Fun stuff.

I can’t remember the last weekend where I just sat at home. I’m starting to miss those, but not really. I’d rather be too busy than sitting home alone like the hermit I was for years doing nothing. I’ve gone from one extreme to the next.

I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up the business before I snap and melt down out of exhaustion. Which is odd, because I also feel like I’m giving up on everything in my life.

I’m not doing Tech this semester because of a long, drawn out story that makes me extremely angry. I gave up my piano teacher because it just wasn’t working, and I haven’t begun self-motivated teaching yet. And I’m worrying that if I don’t, then what is music to me anymore?

The epic question of what the fuck am I doing with my life has popped into my mind for the past week. It scares the shit out of me.

But for now, full force ahead. We’ll see how far I get with only one tank of gas.

…it’s keeping the good part of me closed ((When You Find Me — Joshua Radin))

The song doesn’t fit my post as a whole, but I love the first stanza.

—-

Everything feels wrong. I can’t even count how many times I’ve felt like this.

- Slowly losing control.

- Making stupid mistakes.

- Giving up too easily.

- Planning to wear jeans on a 90 degree day, because shorts just won’t cover it.

I had such a shit week, and I was really counting on a good weekend.

Friday, I felt uncomfortable to a point I haven’t felt in a while. As in I had an unwelcome male trying to get into my pants for hours on end while he was drunk and laying on a couch with me. I couldn’t leave because we’d all been drinking, and I’m not dumb enough to drink and drive.

Saturday, I was exhausted and running right and left, and I realized I blew through half a tank of gas in 24 hours. I was still reeling from a bad Friday night. Then I went out with the guy I like and another friend to see a really good movie. But I found out that she sort of likes him, and so does another friend. So I’m giving up on him, because to me it’s not worth the effort if I’m only going to be in a relationship knowing that there’s other people out there feeling what I felt while he was with someone else. I’m not going to be the person to do that, so I’m going to have to force myself to just ignore the feelings I have. It sucks, but it’s the way I work.

Today, I did homework and then worked. I had a really shitty shift. I kept fucking up one thing, and then thank all that is holy that my big manager was not around, because I accidentally accepted a (GASP) expired coupon (which sounds minor, but she would have cussed me out for it). I wore the wrong shoes, so I have blisters out the wazoo.

And all day I’ve been feeling like I’m getting a cold.

I’m so sick of this shit, and I don’t know how to fix it.

Number of posts I have bitched about how shitty &or depressed I feel: 534809238409830598345.