Selflosophies

I'm not pretty,
and I'm a horrible girlfriend/daughter/grandchild/Christian/student/Ops Staff,
and don't know what I'm going to do after I get out of college,
don't want to be in debt forever but will never win any bloody scholarships,
and just want to be noticed and smiled at
and to be normal and not cry all the time
and not take a million pills
and not worry about not being able to control myself
and not have nightmares any more
and finish a song or a story
and get off my butt
make up my mind, get things done, not thrive off of people

they can tell me that they don't want me around and that I'm annoying, instead of saying it with their eyes. I can't read eyes. But I'll understand if they say it. I could take it, I really could. Just tell me they want me to go home when they don't want me around.

My mind always craves confirmation. Positive, negative. As long as it's confirms SOMETHING.

I'm so alone.

Found her stare'n at the rain
And askn why it has to hurt so bad
Wheres the limit to the pain her heart can take
Before it breaks in half
I wanted to be strong enough to hold her
And show her the way
But shes so far out of reach
And now all I can do is pray

Can you spare an angel tonight
Send a little help from your side
Cuz somebodys lost down here
Let him wing his way through the dark
Carry some of your love into her heart
Can you spare an angel
Spare an angel
Spare an angel

She wonders further in the dark
Feels the cold and hears the thunder cry
While the rain keeps pouring down
Her only answer from the lonely sky
She has no idea how much you love her
Or how much you care
So would you choose one of your best
To be the answer to my prayer

Chorus

Oh I dont know what else to pray this time
Maybe an angel can lead her lonesome heart away to Jesus side

This may just be an act of paranoia infested by my over-fatigued brain.
I have consumed a bawls and a can of diet coke, it's almost 3 in the morning, I'm taking a brief break from working on a psychology research paper and attempting to clear my head for a minute.
When I realize that nightmares suck.
I've been having more nightmares than regular dreams lately...
then again, I don't suppose I've ever really had a "normal" or "regular" dream.
I seem capable of recalling a lot more details than others do.
I remember my thoughts, faces, random things, times, random sounds.
My reasoning in dreams and actions isn't too much like me.

In both dreams and nightmares, these details are noticed. It takes me pages to describe them, at times. They sometimes have multiple parts to them, as if they were chapters from several different books that some literary novice taped together.
Most of the bad ones have death. There's a lot of it. From my earliest nightmare where I actually was killed in the midst of it, to last night where I desperately wanted to be dead. Last night felt like death was the only means of escape. But I either end up dead, about to die, wanting it, feeling hopeless, or killing someone/something(people, animals, etc.).
I'm manic-depressive, yes.
I frequently have feelings where I'd like to just skip the whole living on Earth scene and just go be with God and talk to Him and ask Him about all the things in life here that I don't understand, yes.
But bringing harm to anyone else is usually one of the last things I'd ever think(not dream, unfortunately) of doing. I find myself not being the biggest fan of people, in general, but hurting them isn't on my to-do list. And killing animals deliberately is even more of something I'd scorn myself the rest of my life for.
For the most part, I'm fairly peaceful with others.
My point, I guess, is that I just don't understand where this subconscious repetition of the same theme is coming from.
And it's a bit unnerving.

*Kelsey pretends to swipe his card across my mouth as I'm talking to Travis*
Kelsey: That's for last night. *walks away*
Travis:....
So you take J-Points?

"I'm wearing a Jannah suit!" ~Kelsey, with a Jannah's arms and head draped over his shoulders.

"I took away your speeching capabilities." ~Me

(Upon discovering that Kelsey displays odd characteristics after consuming a small carton of whole milk)
Me: Kelsey's acting like he's drunk...only able to focus on one thing at a time. Like HEY GUYS!!! Heeeeeey guys, letsssss playagame.
Kelsey: Cranium!

"I have all 6 books of the 7-book trilogy." ~Big Daddy(Ryan)

"I was looking at the different kinds of the guitar strings, and saw they had light and medium. I didn't know what to get, so I thought 'Hm, Carrie's strong. I'll get her the medium ones.'" ~Me

"If we weren't on the stairs right now, I would bump you." ~Kelsey

"You must have saw them taken the boxes." ~Big Daddy

"My heart, my pain won't cover up
You left me uh-huh-huh-huh
My heart can't take this cover up
You left me uh-huh-huh-huh...
And I can't change this
I can never take it back
But now I can't change your mind"

Only 8 o’clock?
But it was 6 just
Seconds ago.
Everyone’s downstairs, being dirty.
So I wash my hands.
Scrubbing. They’re disgusting.
I give them another look.
Very grimy.
Each finger goes under the faucet
Counting every time
One, two, three…
Maybe a couple more times wouldn’t hurt.
Please don’t tell me that one was scrubbed less.
Under the water, they just get redder…
Losing feeling. They’re beyond pain.
So gross, though…
It’s not a habit. They’re really diseased.
Vacant eyes stare through the door
Everyone’s watching me.
Dirty people.
I can’t stop. Not until they’re clean.
Submerge in the fiery water.
Only then will the germs leave.
Return in a few hours. Might be done then.
Drying in a fresh towel…
Examine…
Right back under the water.

"Dear Students:

Thank you again for all your help and willingness to participate in
discussions with me and my colleagues concerning the proposed IRA fee
increase. As I promised to the Associated Students Council this
week, I am giving you my decision with regard to your recommendation
that we engage in a student referendum on the proposed increase. I
appreciate the thoughtfulness, passion and civility that you brought
to our conversations, and I will adopt several of your
recommendations. However, I have decided not to have a referendum
for several reasons. As you know, a very small proportion of our
students, even by American public standards, have availed themselves
of the opportunity to vote in referenda on this campus in the past.
I believe that the consultative process that we are using is a more
effective way of learning about the concerns of students as well as
providing good opportunities to educate students and administrators
about each others needs. I also believe that the national trend
towards citizen initiatives has harmed our country and particularly
our state. We have a representative form of government that while
imperfect has yet to be improved upon. The Associated Students
organizations within the CSU are designed to give students the
opportunity to participate in campus governance through their
representatives on the AS Council.

You have asked that I consider several recommendations should we go
forward with the proposed IRA increase. The first dealt with the use
of an economic index to adjust the IRA fee beginning in the Fall of
2008 and annually thereafter. I have consulted with economists and
others who tell me that the Higher Education Price Index is the most
appropriate one for this purpose. You also asked that we agree to
review the fee increase after a period of a few years to determine if
it is still needed and appropriate. I am most willing to do so and
believe that the Student Fee Advisory Committee is the most
appropriate body to do a review. I propose that we schedule the
review for the Fall of 2010. You also suggested that a survey of
several campus constituencies would be a way of providing a voice for
additional student and other people's input. I would welcome your
suggestions for questions for such a survey and will work with my
colleagues to design such an instrument.

I sincerely regret that we are proposing to increase fees for
students to preserve the quality of the educational opportunities we
offer on this campus. I believe that California and the nation are
making serious errors in not allocating more public money towards
education at all levels but especially higher education. I encourage
you again to take your concerns to your elected representatives in
Sacramento and Washington and ask them to reconsider our state and
national priorities.

Thank you again for your help and understanding. I would be most
appreciative if Ms. Chaney would convey this decision to her
colleagues on the Associated Students Council.

Rollin"

I heard this poem for the first time in junior high, I believe. Something in it struck a chord and it stayed in some corner of my head ever since. The memory of it has been recurring in my thoughts recently-not remembering any of the actual lines, the title, or the author, but its story. Finally found it.


Richard Cory
Edward Arlington Robinson (1869-1935)

"Whenever Richard Cory walked downtown
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from soul to crown,
Clean favored and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still, he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich -- yes, richer than a king --
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought he was everything
To make us wish we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head."

"The silver Swan, who living had no Note,
when Death approached, unlocked her silent throat.
Leaning her breast upon the reedy shore,
thus sang her first and last, and sang no more:
"Farewell, all joys! O Death, come close mine eyes!
More Geese than Swans now live, more Fools than Wise.""
~Orlando Gibbons madrigal

"I can think of no more emotionally damaging loss than to be turned down by someone whom you love very much. A person who not only turns you down, but almost immediately will marry the victor. What a bitter blow that is."
~Charles Schulz

THIS JUST IN:
I have a huge ass.
The end! :)

"When the house fell asleep there was always a light
and it fell from the page to the eyes of an American boy
in a storybook land I could dream what I read
when it went to my head I'd see
I wanna be a hero

But the practical side said the question was still
when you grow up what will you be?
I wanna be a hero

chorus:
Hero
it's a nice-boy notion that the real world's gonna destroy
you know
it's a Marvel comicbook Saturday matinee fairytale, boy

Growing older you'll find that illusions are brought
and the idol you thought you'd be was just another zero
I wanna be a hero

Heroes died when the squealers bought 'em off
died when the dealers got 'em off
welcome to the "in it for the money as an idol" show
when they ain't as big as life
when they ditch their second wife
where's the boy to go?
gotta be a hero

When the house fell asleep
from a book I was led to a light that I never knew
I wanna be your hero
and he spoke to my heart from the moment I prayed
here's a pattern I made for you
I wanna be your hero"

"A romantic, plastic piece of shit you can mold
Til I break into chokeable pieces."

"Just when you think you're in control, just when you think you got a hold, just when you get on a roll, here it goes again"

"Let go, jump in. Whatcha waiting for? It's alright, 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown."

"I'm a prayer, all you see is breath. I am empty, I am skin-and-bones, I'm a ribcage....I had a nice grip on my life 'til you twisted my arm."

What I need: "Come here and cry on my shoulder, I'll hold you 'til it's over, I'll rescue you tonight. Let my arms be your shelter, your hiding place forever, I'll love you more than life."
"Somebody love me, come and carry me away. Somebody need me to be the blue in their gray. Somebody want me the way I always dreamed it would be. Somebody love me..."
"I want you to want me, I need you to need me, I love you to love me, I'm begging you to beg me..."

to be continued.

I assure you, I am not the enemy here.
I am not the one seeking fights; I am the nomad, weary from travels and eager to rest for once in life. It's not that I don't care. Because I do. I care no less than I always did.
But there comes a time when one needs to stop and clear the head.
Why is this so hard to understand?
I CAN'T ALWAYS BE THE PERSON RUNNING AROUND.
Sacrifices are things I do a lot, yes-but I can only let so much of myself away at a time.
And I need time to get it back, before I can do anything more.
Is this so wrong? Am I evil for needing to just be loved for a while and not yelled at? Am I evil for wanting to see my mom, for wanting to do something I would like to do just once? For occasionally being happy when I'm by myself or being with people I don't usually hang out with?
Or are you upset because you're frightened that I would drift away as a result of being remotely in higher spirits while I'm gone, and in other company?
It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder...and I do not disagree. Indeed, I think it's very true-especially after being exposed for long periods of time. It may even be an example of just what is going on in my feelings for home. The longer I am away, the fiercer my desire to return, even though I know that the feelings of relief for coming back are not long-lived once I am finally back.

But am I the only one who understands this reasoning? Surely I cannot be the only one. There must be someone who sees the same way. And seeing as how this may not be a time when there is defined right or wrong, I should not be condemned for seeing the way I do.
Why, then, am I persecuted as being a criminal?

How the FUCK could he look at me and smile after what he did?
I gave a "hi" fake little smile, turned around, and as soon as I was out of sight, fell against the wall and winced, clutching my chest. I ran upstairs to my room...and cried.
And I can still see him smiling.
How, in all that is good in this world, can you fucking SMILE at me?

What's wrong with me?
I'm "too serious",
and then the next second I'm being laughed at for walking into a safety cone.
I suppose one could seriously walk into one by accident...which I guess I did...but how can I go from being someone who's "too serious" to a big laughingstock who can laugh at her own errors in a matter of seconds?
Well, I can laugh at them to a point. After that point, I guess I DO switch into serious mode, because I get hurt and let my walls build themselves up. Once past the recommended dosage, things take a rapid turn for the worse. Especially when everything seems directed at me. Other people don't laugh at themselves enough. Thus it collects on me, and my self-esteem is thrown out the window. You make me feel slightly better, and then yank it away like some kitten's plaything.
So I'd like to think I'm this bright individual that people say I am...
but all that I see is a big blonde acne-stricken klutz that is made to feel like an idiot because the only things others notice are the stupid things I do and say. And I shudder to think at what they'd do if they could read my mind. Thank goodness I'm somewhat reasonable enough to know some things I think would be perceived as idiotic, and am able to keep my mouth shut. Sometimes.

Some books have characters who can be goofy, but have this perfectly innocent smile that just melts you. Characters with the heart of a child whose sole desire is to make others smile. I would like to think that I have those tendencies. I just want to make people smile and laugh, I want people to be excited with me, but not always in a self-hurtful manner.
But...that doesn't seem to happen any more. Is it just unacceptable to find things funny or wonderful outside of one's own character once past childish years? What's wrong? Is it my fault? Is it theirs? Is it just a difference of perspective that hinders people from sharing my happiness?
When a baby grins and giggles, everyone grins and giggles with them. Because it's precious. It's adorable. Something inside an infant's laugh pulls a switch that activates the happy muscles inside.
Or is that just me?
And I'm the only one I know of who looks at a sunrise and just beams. I laugh at the sound of rainfall outside my window. Making a handprint in the frost coating handrails in the early morning is the most exciting thing in the world. Making snow angels, tracing a finger across a flower petal still holding drops of dew touches me deeply.
And then I try to tell someone...and I'm insane. "Yes, that's nice..."
"Isn't it wonderful?"
"Yeah. Sure."
I want you to be excited with me! Let's go look together! I want you to feel my joy!
...Please?
Will no one be happy at the simple things of life at my side?
Will no one else speak of these little things that mean so much?
Or do they mean nothing to anyone?
Is it a matter of retaining enough innocence in a world where everything is grisly and deceptive, so despairing? Is joy such as mine simply impossible, thus rendering my own false? Is joy such as mine impossible to others because it is unique to me, or is it possible for others to share it? How? Why?

I don't understand.

I want to get in an accident.
I want to feel pain.
I want to hurt..."to see if I still feel."
Of what method, probably by car. Since I can't cut or whatever, I'd like to get smashed up. To see my own crimson seeping into the pavement, gleaming under the dull streetlights and idiots turning their brights on as they're driving on two-way busy streets at one o'clock in the morning. And I know that beggars on this can't really be choosers-okay, nobody 'begs' to be in a car accident, so it's not like they want to choose anyway-but I'd like it to be somewhere warm. I'd hate to die up here. Life would seep out of me with a Snowden-like "I'm cold. I'm cold." But I'm not particularly motivated to die too much, either. Just to get dinged up.
Nope. I'll hurt in the place I hate. So Cal. heh. Sounds like fun.
It's just like when I was at home...driving home at night, after pipes or something. Fighting the strong impulse to just swerve into another car(moving or not) or a streetlight, a fire hydrant...I don't really care.
I looked at myself in the mirror at one point last month and just slapped myself as hard as I could in the face. Never done that before. It stung for a little while...but I don't think it was too bad a pain. I dunno.
Ugh. Frigging psycho. You don't know who you are. Unstable, morbid, probably emo too. You've been called that before. And probably are.
Damnit, why do I hurt so much like this inside? I guess it's proof that I can feel inside at all, but still. I just want to know WHY.

My sin is vanity. And some envy, I guess, but definitely vanity. Sickening.

"Look at your face, it doesn’t shine the way it used to
Look at your eyes, they don’t sparkle anymore
Look what you’ve done, you’ve ruined it for everyone
Who told you that you had to lose your innocence

(I can begin)
I, I’m starting over
(Again)
I, I’m starting over

Now tell me how, I get back to my childhood
I used to think it was so naive, I was so naive

Look what I’ve done
I’ve ruined it for everyone
I should have held on harder to my innocence

It’s never too late
It’s never too late for starting over

Reclaim your innocence, start over
Reclaim your innocence, reclaim you innocence
Start over, start over

Look at your face, it doesn’t shine the way it used to"
~Audio Adrenaline

I'm too dense to realize anything, internal or external.
I hate me.
Or at least, I think I do. Then again, I'm probably wrong.
Because I can't tell if I actually hate someone or not.
I claim that I hate a girl named Christina, but then she looked upset this weekend and I wanted to know what was wrong.
Does that mean that I do, in some small margin, care?
I don't want to care and I didn't want to care, but I did anyway. And I don't know why. The thought of even her name makes me miserable and loathsome.
Do I just 'care' about everyone, or even 'love' everyone, even though my lips claim such things false?
I don't even know how to define what 'love' is to me.
"I love you," I say. "I'm supposed to 'love' everyone," I say. I've been told that love is not a feeling; according to my parents, and to Aurora as well. So how am I to know if I love/have loved or not? How am I to know that such things within me are possible?
Remembering the past...and seeing if I possibly could ever do such things as love...
But that doesn't mean that anything I've ever said is empty...
does it? It can't.
Is 'caring' synonymous with 'loving'? Or does a fragment of passion implement into 'loving'? Or only into certain kinds of 'loving', so that 'caring' is just a mild, unpassionate form of love?
If I would die for someone, does that mean that I do truly love them, whether in passionate or in unpassionate form? Or only that I care enough about them?
I would die for my friends. I care about them, I cry over them, I pray for them, I am there whenever I can for them, I go against my parents' wishes for them, and I would take bullets, jump in front of trains, or make myself a sacrifice in any physical or emotional means to make them happy, whether or not they knew who was doing it. In friendship, I'm no glory-seeker. I don't want their praise for caring about them. But does this all mean that I love them? Do I possess the fabled Christ-like "agape" love that I used to always hear about at church, or is it just because I hate myself and thus everyone else is on my side except for me? Is it just another way that I'm selfish, that I'm only saving them and caring about them to hurt myself? Is it just from low self-esteem, that I believe they're superior to me and thus aid them in whatever way possible to keep it that way?
Too confusing. And I still don't have an answer. I don't know that I'll ever get one.
But I just want to know, you know? I want to know what's going on, why I am the way I am. What are my motives? See, I don't even know how to respond to this stuff. I just want to say "I love you" and know what I mean when I say it. "I love you"="I would give my life for you"="I would do anything for you"="I need to be near you"...is that what it means? Is that "I love you", summed up? Because then I could know and understand that what I've been saying all this time has been true. But even so, only telling myself that I'm right wouldn't get me anywhere. I typically don't believe anything I say about me unless it's something negative. Then again, I don't know that someone telling me "yes, that's correct" would give me the reassurance that I know what I mean.
Ridiculous.

"I Will Be Here" by Steven Curtis Chapman
Tomorrow morning if you wake up and the sun does not appear
I will be here
If in the dark, we lose sight of love
Hold my hand, and have no fear
'Cause I will be here

I will be here
When you feel like being quiet
When you need to speak your mind
I will listen
And I will be here
When the laughter turns to cryin'
Through the winning, losing and trying
We'll be together
I will be here

Tomorrow morning, if you wake up
And the future is unclear
I will be here
Just as sure as seasons were made for change
Our lifetimes were made for these years
So I will be here

I will be here
And you can cry on my shoulder
When the mirror tells us we're older
I will hold you
And I will be here
To watch you grow in beauty
And tell you all the things you are to me
I will be here

I will be true to the promise I have made
To you and to the One who gave you to me

Tomorrow morning, if you wake up
And the sun does not appear
I will be here
Oh, I will be here

Maybe not. I would cry oceans...because I don't know that I could believe anyone who would actually mean it. Just thinking that breaks me.