I wonder what the future holds for me. If anything.

Embrace the glory that is the middle part.

Another show.

Swan Lake is quickly approaching. Today was our last rehearsal in the studio; the next time I put on my pink coffins will be on the stage of the Gallo Center for the arts. This show.... god, what can I say? Its beautiful, its painful, its admired, its feared, its loved, adored: its Swan Lake. It is the ballet of all ballets. 

I love this. I love everything about it. I love that I am given a splendid opportunity in Act I to perform the Pas de Trois. I love how much I despise the beginning of Act II, I love how I stare at the dancer's arse in front of me as I clench my own and bunker down for the excruciatingly long holds that seem to know no limit. I love being a snobby princess from Sweden in Act III who prances around the court with a feather that scoffs down upon all the other peons. And finally, I love Act IV, not just because it is the end of the ballet, but because the movement is simply brilliant. Its gorgeous and sad and the music is mesmerizing and epic and tragic. Yet in the end, its inspiring. Its romantic and hopeful. I would love to be Odette/Odile. Not for the fame, or the applause; I dont even deserve it. Hell, I am certain I couldnt even dance it technically well. But I would give anything to emote all of what those two characters feel. If I were ever given the opportunity to perform it, I would die of happiness. Because I love how beautiful I feel when I dance. I'm not even saying I dance beautifully, I'm just addicted to dance's natural high. Lets be honest, I have some extreme self esteem issues. But despite the endless mirrors and the failed pirouettes, I love nothing more than that passion that is lit within me like a flame. I feel... happy. I feel joyous. I feel unearthly. I never want to stop loving what I love. 

I cant imagine life without ballet... Life without ballet doesnt seem like much of a life at all.

Wishful Thinking.

Bitterness poisons the mind with memories,
feasting on the brain like a parasitic tumor.
It will eat away your future,
suckling the experiences you will never have.
Before you realize it, your cheeks have wallowed,
your skin has bagged,
the light in your eye has grown dim,
like the disbelief in fairies and tall tale knights.
You grow old and your consciousness wavers.
Thoughts turn to past recollections,
the painful outweighing the pleasant.
You've fallen down a stairwell,
thrown off by kind words suddenly spoken.
You're cracked and broken, but too far gone to fix.
You quiver on the cusp of death,
wishing you could forgive and forget,
wishing you could have moved on.
The life you never knew flashes before your eyes.
You die, tear ducts wet and pale cheeks stained.

Anger has a way of ageing us.

well...

I have found someone I would die for. I would die for drive. I would die for determination and passion. 

I would die for you.

Starting Now.

I am going to live. I will talk it out. I will strive and flourish. I might hate my situation, but I will make the best of what I have.


I've been hanging around with him more. The word confused is an understatement.

I love West Side Story. I love the music, the dance, the atmosphere of the show itself. I cant tell if I am dreading or looking forward to Swan Lake in October. I wonder with anticipation the results of future casting...

I dont have much to say, really. I feel calm. I feel... at peace with everything.

Suddenly, a memory.

I remember sitting in my room, staring at the paper covered walls, crying. I didnt want to change the childish bunnies and animals and quaint, calming colors. Not because I loved it so much, but because it was my innocence, my childhood, my youth. And I cried, afraid of growing up. Afraid of dying. Afraid of losing myself.

I was ten. Who feels that at ten...

This Wednesday,

School starts up again. Let the invisibility process begin.

I really dont mind going unnoticed. In fact, I rather enjoy it. I love spending good quality time with myself, improving on my flaws, mulling over my thoughts, accomplishing priorities. I just wish it were easier. I'm surrounded by a sea of people I dont really respect or admire for the most part. They're bitterly bland, and cant see past the drink in their own fumbling hand. I just wish I didnt have to try to maintain the conventions of society and specifically, the social aspects of high school.

I shouldnt have to force myself, right? Whatever happens naturally, happens?

I dont need to be sexually validated to love myself. I dont need you. I need me.


I wish I practiced this sooner.

Dreams???????

I've been having these crazy dreams. They're a mixture between video games and movies. Its like the setting and locations of Halo but the crazy 'villains' from Borderlands, with demonlike characters from the Underworld movies. The dream came in three's. A trilogy so to say. I only really remember the last one.
The entire point of the dreams was to defeat these alien villain things. The human resistance. In the third dream, we were in a building. A giant, alien-looking building (reminiscent of the buildings of the Covenant in Halo). In this dream, we (the resistance) finally realize that the reason all of these crazy, deformed people and creatures are here destroying and taking over Earth (I assume we were on Earth), is because the Demons were controlling them in order to rule the world. (Classic. Cheesy. I know...) So when these Demons realized that we were kicking so much ass, they came to Earth themselves. Okay, the Demons had 6 members. The 'King', his three seemingly identical daughters, a batlike man creature, and his wife. So the 'King' sent his daughters down and I fought one of them. But in order to fight them (and they, you), you had to have these collapsible metal spears. So we were fighting and she was winning. Eventually I just took out a pistol and lodged a bullet into the front of her skull. She went down. But knowing that one shot to the head wouldnt kill her, I shoved the spear into her stomach. Her eyes glazed over white. Filmy. My brother soon came along next to me. I was out of ammo and begged for him to find a weapon and do some real damage to her. All he had was mace (wtf?) and so he blinded her already filmy eyes. And then, she started to come back to life. We watched as her eyes changed colors, from white to a reddened brown. She took shallow uneven breaths. So we ran. We could do nothing else. So we ran.
Then, it flashed forward to the Demons. All sitting in a cold looking stone room gathered around a table. The bat guy was talking about how he had to save her. Then it flashed back to the half dead demon daughter and the bat guy hovering over her. Apparently the only way to save her was to convert her and transfer some of his blood to her. Enabling her to become half bat, half demon. And she lived. And she wanted personal revenge.

It was epic. In my head...


I dunno. Crazy shit.

Cant sleep. Too busy being not tired.

ramble shamble

I cant even deny it anymore. I love you. My heart swells at the thought of you. I catch myself staring, silently scolding my internal dreamer that longs to be with you. You're always on my mind, I cant even help it. Nor contain it. Its bursting through my chest. Like radiation. I smile a small smile full of sadness and hopelessness. But I smile a small smile out of the sheer fantastical nature of the beast. I love you furiously.


But its time to wake up.

Deletion scandal!

My blog apparently had the nerve to delete/hide itself from view (even to me). After a strenuous 2 minutes process, I managed to reclaim my site from said horrible beast of an attitude. My blog has apologized and changed its ways, however. I guess thats what I deserve for not being on it enough.

I know this feeling. This futureless feeling. This absence, this void. I'm crashing. I've never felt so unalterably dead. My fingers are like sleepless led balloons as they drudge over these keys.
I wish to go over to where you are and love you.
You dont have to try around me. You dont have to be anything but your inspiring, messed up self. And I will accept you. Above all, I will love you for who you are. Because you matter to me. You have no idea how important you are to me.

I have so much left to say, I cannot even say anything more.

There is something wrong with me.

Disneyland! One week! Woooohooooooooooooooooo! I love you, ladies.

I'm scared to even talk to you. Every apathetic lack of a glance hurts more than I could have imagined. You are so wonderful. So special to me. I dont want to be another annoyance in your life. Maybe I should just give up on the notion of us. What a sick, romanticized idea. Us, a two letter word that can hold more distance than an ocean, a vast body of water. A rip tide.

"I'm slowly becoming

I dunno.

Empty. And inside all the space, I am finding myself."

I would never

I could never fake smiling for you. On one hand, you dont deserve me lying to you. Or anyone. On the other, you dont even deserve the effort.

When I'm gone.

I wonder if you'll notice when I'm gone. Or if it will just be like a cold gust of wind that bristles the hair layering your arm. Or if it will be like exhaling smoke as it fades away into a starless sky. Or if it will be like staring into the sun as it blinds you violently.
I'm partial to the possibility of the following: it will be like taking a breath. You wont even notice.

I'm always so surprised when I find out that people actually read this.

response.

I love you. I know you wont believe me; now, more than ever. But I love you. And I mean it. And trust me, I hardly ever mean it. You’re inspiring and unique and different and quirky and cultured and intellectual and flawed and adorable and imperfect and wonderful. I love you. I realize that this wont change anything, but I’d just like you to know that. Because even if you do not acknowledge it, your subconscious has processed it. The thought will rest somewhere in the back of your head, probably to collect dust quietly. Then again, I’m not the best example of self-loving. I’m a mess. But if I could ever be sure of one  single thing, it is my loving admiration for you.

Just thought you ought to know.

oh

You're as deep as a kiddie pool, as shallow as a shower, yet everyone fawns over you. I dont get it. I feel ugly. And insignificant. I cant wait for everything to be over. Its agonizing. I want to curl up with a good book and poor myself into the pages, let the words flood my mind. I feel lost. I feel found. I feel nowhere at all. I feel everywhere around.

To fade away into inexistence,
would be unadulterated bliss.
From kiss stained lips,
to heartstrings' rips.
Bliss I will never know until I die through fire.
Bliss I will never live to acquire.
To fade away and start anew,
that is the life I'd want with you.

Sometimes it feels like my heart is shrinking.

But maybe I'm just mislead.

I feel like you hate me. Me, some incorrigible excuse for an intellect, a beauty, a brawn, a child, a friend, a human being. Why would you ever feel anything towards me but hate? I wish I was enough for you. Why cant I be that interesting? Why cant I catch your eye? I feel like such a bother. Like everytime I talk to you, I'm simply burdening you. Like its an effort to speak. I dont want to bother you. I dont want to fester like a wound. I just want you to be happy.


But I wish you could be happy with me..

Beautiful joy and relief.

I'M DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!! You have to idea the ecstasy I feel after performing The Fairy Godmother. Just pure, unadulterated joy. I'm so relieved.  I'm so happy. I'm so goddamn happy. I feel good about the performance. I mean, I know it wasnt perfect, but it felt good. It felt like how its supposed to feel. I feel so happy.


I hope, I pray: this is just the beginning.

Lately

Nothing has been really happening. I've discovered that I am just as unpopular on the internet as I am in reality. Wonderful news.

Dance has been swell. I'm always worried I am not good enough.'Tis the life of a starving artist: always hungry for perfection and validation.

I'm listening to this mix at the moment. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it yet... But I think I dig it.

So whats new, people? Whats new with all of you?

I can see myself being with you. It would be simple. Easy as breathing, nothing forced.
I am your fun buddy, and you are the practical love of my life. Isnt this just great.

I'd like to throw this out there: fuck everything and everyone. I cant wait to leave. And be alone.

I wish I could be with you for the rest of my existence.

Why cant the personal life be left PERSONAL? What I do with myself, with other people is none of your business. And I'll be damned if it affects you.

watch this now. for your own sake.

"Because I feel like no one gets me, and when someone does I hate it. Because I want to be special enough for no one to understand."

"Welcome to the life of a night owl."

I wish I was famous. Like in a band or something really big. Then I could do exactly what I want. My insanity would turn into normalcy.

notes

You're only the love of my non-existent life. Don't worry if you break my heart.

Dreams

I had a dream I was at the beach. I got stung by a jellyfish that looked more like a Pokemon than anything. In this dream, I was apparently allergic to them. So, I kept looking around and begging people to urinate on the wound for me, but no one would. People would hardly look at me. Somehow, the sting brought on paranoia and blindness. I could barely see; I saw in highlights: flashes of reality. So I started to run along the coast, slowly finding myself ankle, then calf, then knee and waist deep in water. Then I was attacked in a swarm of mutated looking jellyfish. Searing pain all through out my body woke me up. I burned. I felt it after I opened my eyes.

I wonder why no one saved me...

just whatever

There are only some things that can make me completely happy no matter what.

1.) 

and other musicians

2.)

3.)

and likewise nature

4.) you.

babble

Prom was good. I'm the talk of the school. I'm still deciding if thats a good thing or not.
I got my bangs cut. yayz.
I love you.
Everytime I think of you, I think of what we could have had.
I cant imagine myself happy with anyone. I can only imagine myself alone. I seem happy. But I often delude myself.
I want to touch skin.
I want to feel you.
I wish you werent so far away, so separated impossibly.
Damn time.
Age is just a number.
But you are the one person I dont think I could ever have in my arms.

Oh, do I love you.
You. You unknown, sick, invisible bastard.
I'm waiting for you.
Why wont you show up??

Real Words With Friends.

"ANYWAY.

YOU'RE NOT AN IDIOT.

AND EVEN IF YOU ARE: THOSE WHO MIND DONT MATTER, AND THOSE WHO MATTER TRULY DONT MIND.

As long as you've got people who love you, who gives a flying fuck about anyone else."

MELISHA! :)

Melisha Singh, you are the greatest! I dont even know what my surprise is, and no matter what it is or it isnt, I am so appreciative of your kind and impossibly large heart. Thank you so much for the apparent gift that is to come!

Free Thought and his fellow Associates.

And then, in a bright and brilliant flash, everything was over. I never saw nor smelled, neither touched nor tasted anything ever again. And when the bright and brilliant flash flashed by my eyes: the very portal of my ocular being, I couldnt wait to see again. To sniff, to feel, to eat. In a flash, I was gone. And in a flash, I wanted to be back again, home alone, in my bed, naked; with only the light of the polluted stars to keep me sane.

The clearest light I see is the light outside my house, hovering over me, watching me while I dress. Its tall, erect, like a steel rod. It blots out the sun, it blots out my sky. Towers of technology tower over me. I cower under them, like a worker ant below the shadow of an omniscient foot of God given self-righteousness.

I see the soundless storm brewing outside my wide eyed windows.
The sky is quiet. Noiselessness echoes off noiselessness. The trees sway like rocks.
Fog encased the morning sun, blotting out the light.
Dew upon blades of grass sat silent and still like panes of glass, waiting for the climax.

New Distraction!

How silly: I started a tumblr. What a waste of my time...

Go here. Its basically another off shoot; another limb; an extension of myself. More ways to distract the brain from previous priorities.

 

by the way, lolcats feed my soul. 

kthxbai

I'm afraid to really be myself. Even on a website that no one reads. How pathetic.

Listen to this.

I want you to FEEL.

What ever happened to writing letters? I want to write you a letter. I want you to feel surprised. I want you to feel loved. Adored. Cherished. I want you to feel unique. I want you to feel traditional. I want you to feel unconventional. I want you to feel like you're not being swept away with the tides of technology. I want you to feel wanted. I just want you to feel.

I want you to feel everything I would want to feel.

Chopin, Moonlight Sonata...

I'm engulfing myself in classical music. Listening to Chopin, slipping into it like silk. I love his Nocturnes. They absolutely take my breath away. They draw me to tears. If You have any heart or soul or desire or passion or hope or love or dream, I recommend you listen. Not just hear, but listen. And let Yourself feel vulnerable. Let Yourself sink. Let Yourself be completely isolated and alone. Let Yourself fall into complete solidity and bliss. Feel the music, feel the blood pulse through you. And then, let go. Let go of everything.

I love you. So much.

I love you. So much. What if I told you nothing. What if I whispered nothing to you. Those long nights filled with nothing but silence; nothing but the occasional car alarm. I cant tell if it would kill me or make me stronger. Everything is different, yet I'm still the same. I knew myself, I knew what I now know. Now, I'm just affirmed.

I knew, that I'll never know everything. I know that I knew I was right.

I love you. So much. I don't want to die. Ever. I wont miss you. Not my family. Maybe a lover. But not my family nor my friends. No, I recant my statement. Not a lover either. Life would move on. I would evolve. I wouldn't miss a beat. I would live off of the life of others. Their youth, livelihood, their love, their thirst for making something out of themselves. I would feed off of them. Suck them dry. I'm not afraid to die, I'm afraid to stop living. I'm afraid I wont have enough time to really live, and not just survive another after another after another decade. I dont care who I leave behind. On the other hand, I would bite the bullet for anyone; a complete stranger, if thats what it came down to.

I love you. So much. The things we told each other. The words shared. Hard wood floors. White cotton bed. Cool breeze through the room, caressing the curtains. I could never go back to you, my almost lover. You deserve more than the issues presented to you. I'm sorry. I wish someone could appreciate you as much as I did. Women might adore you. Or love you. Or want you. But to understand you. To appreciate your flaws? I hope you find that.

I love you. So much. Cant you just get it? Why dont you get it???

I love you. So much. But I cant wait to leave and never look back. I dont care about you. I dont care about any of you. I feel like you just dont get it.

The saddest part is, I'm talking to myself.

And all that jazz!

I absolutely abhor those who dish what they cannot take. I detest hypocrites, no, not contradictions, but full-fledged hypocrites. You make my blood boil. And I'm not usually an angry person. But damn, you have a way of getting to me. But I keep my passion introverted. I wouldnt want to become someone like that; I know better, I want better for myself.

On a side note. :)

I LOVE ANIME/MANGA/COSPLAY/all that jazz. If you didnt know, you know now. I cant even explain the depth of my deep love for anime or manga. Its slightly incomprehensible. Its extremely dorky, I'm well aware. But I would not have it any other way.

Bucket List continued...

6. Go to a Fanime Convention

p.s. Speaking of "all that jazz", did you know? I really REALLY would love to be apart of a Chicago production.

p.s.s. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

"Its A Pretty Good Day..."

I had a great day today. Nothing monumental or exciting happened. No surprises, no ecstasies. I was just in a really fabulous mood. And then it continued as I arrived at dance and saw that I'm cast as The Fairy Godmother in Cinderella! I am so happy, I cant manage to put my euphoria into words. I'm just delighted. And kind of nervous. This role will be a challenge! However, I'm sure they wouldnt give it to me if they didnt think I could handle it (cross your fingers). Hehe, well I'm off to do nothing. I love you all!

Bangs are in the air?

I'm choreographing to Vivaldi's Winter for CWB's Choreography Workshop. I'm... excited? Nervous and a little anxious would be two fitting terms as well, however. I have a bunch of ideas, but not a solid stream of choreography you know? So it will be a bit of a challenge, but I'm up to it. I'm listening to Vivaldi so much, soon I'll be crapping out violins... (bad image, sorry.)

On a side note, I NEED BANGS. Elease got bangs, and now I'm hooked! I just need a change to my hair. I get so bored with the longlonglong locks. I've always been a sideswoop kinda gal, but change here I come!

Possibilities?:

Or I might just keep the sideswoop bangs but revamp it a bit?

Bucketlist Continued...

I told this (excuse my language) douche bag off yesterday. It felt really good. I refused to be a Bystander. I got cursed out because of it. But, it was appropriate. So, I did it. And it felt really good.

I dont know if I want to go to Prom. I know I will go, but I dont know if I want to. I dont want to go with someone I dont really want to. Is that selfish, a little gaudy perhaps? I guess so.

I've realized that I dont need a guy in my life right now. Its not as if I like any of my present options anyway.

Its funny how much a picture can dredge up, huh? How many memories; the feelings, coming flooding back. Its like sitting on top of one of those dunk tanks where the people have to hit the target with somesort of baseball in order to 'dunk' the target sitting on the platform. Its kind of like that, when you finally crash into the water. Unexpected. But you cant help but smile because of the probability and the conventions of it all.

I want to go read in my bathtub (with water, of course). I think I will.

Oh and I'm continuing my bucketlist:

5. Create a ship in a bottle.

More to come.

I THINK I LOVE/HATE PEOPLE. i havent decided which yet.

Foul

Am I wrong in saying what I find to be true?

"I'm sick of the clones. I look around and I see a generation squandered; I see a generation lost to the media, to the mainstream, to whats in and whats not. I see a generation taken down by their own will. I'm sick of everyone being the same. I'm sick of the conformity. I'm sick of the constant stream of monotony. People dont realize it because they are so submerged in their own self serving shit. If everyone is the same, no one realizes that they aren't their own person. I wish we could listen to ourselves and how awful we are. You could put all the people at our school in one vast room and record it, and all you would hear is dull, white noise. This is the death of originality; of unique ability; of human possibility. And I hate to see such beauty and hope turned into vile human waste. We are the architects of our own destruction, and our foundation is crumbling.

Take a page from Thoreau's book and go live in a cabin for two years. And when you come back, I want you to try to look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong.

In the world I see, society is based on the majority. And I'm not prominent enough to even make a dent. Lets just say, if I turned up missing one day, not much would change. And the last thing I want is for people to change. I dont think being a 'beacon' necessarily works. I can honestly say I am a complete individual without being boastful or saying such a statement with pride. Its not like a medal of honor or an award you pin onto the breast pocket of your shirt. Its an honest to god fact. I dont want to change anyone. That is not what I'm going for. That is the last thing I'm going for. I just wish some people would poke their heads from out under the sand and care to notice that a vast majority of at least the highschool people are distinguishably identical. We're all individuals, but individually we dont add up to much...All individuals, but there is a sick underlying tone of loss of purpose. Loss of spark. Its like we're going out, a fuse has popped and we're slowly fading. I dont want to live in a world of doused candles and broken lamps. But at this point, its too dark to see whats right in front of our nose. Its sad really. Because we can make such music, such art, such beauty.

Its like, I know laundry loads of people who persistently work themselves to the bone in the efforts of their studies, they want to get into great colleges and get a respectable job. I love this ideal. The problem is, no one knows what they want to do. They know they're trying to get somewhere, but they dont know where. And its just sad.

*I'm not being a bitch or snotty or thinking everyone should change. I'm just looking at us from a step back and simply saying what I appear to notice."

What the hell is up with everyone saying "rude"?

I mean, I get it. We all have our friends and when we are around them enough, we start showing some of the same traits and qualities. But that doesnt mean we have to lose ourself.

I want to meet someone. Thats what is so good about him. He's a breath of fresh air. And I love him for it. AND thats why I appreciate Walker Mills so goddamn much! He's so... himself.

And I'm not trying to change anyone, because I believe everyone has the right to be anyone they choose. I dont want to change anyone. I'm not that kind of person. I just... I dont know. I really dont know. There is just something deeply wrong with it all. NO, NOT WRONG. Just unsettling perhaps..

I think too much.

Random Attack!

I'm reading The Pilot's Wife now. Its by the same Anita Shreve woman, the same person who wrote The Last Time They Met (the previous book I was reading before). So far, I like it alot. And hell, even Oprah likes it; its made the list for her book club or something, so you know its gotta be good... I mean, c'mon. ITS OPRAH.

Anywho, I'm totally loving the rain! I love all the seasons and the weather each season brings, but I truly, sincerely LOVE the rain. Its so cozy. And it creates such beautiful scenery. I love being surrounded by the breathtaking.

In other news, I'm drowning in homework! Woohoo! But I'm not worried, I have taught myself to expel worry from my bones. At least, when it comes to school... Dance is another issue though. Perhaps I should have my priorities reversed...?

nah.

Oh, and I'm thinking about getting straight across bangs. I'm really digging the idea actually. Because I get so bored with my hair! And I'm fairly adventurous... But if I dont do ANYTHING with it, I'm just going to end up chopping it all off. And that would NOT be good.

p.s. I love partnering with Nate. He's really lighthearted but still 'professional' or whatnot. There's this section in It's A Deal and he has the BEST face ever. Its happy? And a little silly. But totally in character and charismatic. I crack up EVERY TIME. Because, I dont know, it just makes me happy. Partnering with him makes me really enjoy dance. And I havent completely enjoyed dance for some time now. OKAY. Dont give me some obnoxious crap like: "Oh, do you like him? *wink, wink* But you know he has a girlfriend!" or some bull like that. I just have a fantastic time dancing with Nate. He's truly wonderful. Isnt that enough??

p.s.s I've re-found the joys of Pokemon. Praise jesus!

p.s.s.s(?) I'm choreographing for the workshop for CWB. Regrets? YUP. It's going to be to Pie Jesu or there is a tiny chance it will be to Vivaldi's Winter.... Either way. It'll sure be a hoot. (click the links!)

Here's to you, my dear.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I don't have a special friend or a boy or a lover, husband, or life partner. So perhaps I cant fully appreciate Valentine's Day.... But just the same, I'd like to say that I love You. You being my friends. My true friends. My sisters. My better halves, quarters, and eighths. If you're reading this, you know who you are. You light up my sky, like a bright brilliant sun. With You, I laugh until my sides ache and burn, and then I laugh some more. I can talk about anything with You. You've always stood by me, through thick and thin. We've shared so many fond memories, and I know there are decades of nostalgia to come. I love You so much. You truly make my life possible.

So here's to You. Happy Valentine's Day. I Love You.

Loss

This Wednesday at approximately 4:30 am, my grandmother passed away. Its sad; a tragic loss. Its hard to lose a loved one. Its like a small pebble dropped in a placid pond: it still makes a big wake. But I have to say, death has probably been the best thing to happen to my grandma in the past four years. Now, before you judge, you have to understand. My grandfather died before my grandmother. He was her everything. If you read a previous post of mine, you'll see that she gave up EVERYTHING she wanted out of her life just to be with him. And I respect pure and true love like theirs.

So after he died, she sort of slipped out of reality. It was like life had no further meaning. Food was tasteless; her thirst unquenchable. She had literally lost her other half; he was ripped away from her. Soon after his shortcoming, she started to show heavy signs of dementia. It was absolutely painful to watch. To see some one's mind slowly deteriorate in front of you is something you don't simply forget. And she grieved. She grieved like every yesterday was her husband's death. Eventually, she truly lost sight of reality and was unable to take care of herself. She was put into a nursing facility four years ago, and her health had been a steady decline ever since. She was depressed and always thought Hank, my grandpa, was in the other room, and she was just waiting for him to get her and leave and go back home. It tore my mom and aunt apart, it was impossibly challenging for them to deal with it. Because they already lost their dad, and they were watching their mother slip away.

Four years later after surgeries and multiple medical treatments, my grandmother passed away peacefully. Now she's finally with my grandfather. And although I have no grandparents now, and my mother has no mother or father of her own, I cant help but think:

this is for the best.

Joe Blow

I had a pretty decent day today. School was... educational. Basically. I got to spend a quite time alone at lunch in the library, which I adored! (fact: I love working and being alone. Its spending good quality time with yourself!) I always feel so accomplished.

Anywho, dance was good as well. I feel like the show is finally coming along (cross your fingers!!). I had alot of rehearsals with Nate. He's new and WONDERFUL. Oh god, he's so funny, too. He was a blast to work with (not to mention I kneed him IN THE KNEE. That hurt. Both of us. But mainly him...hehe).

And now I'm jamming to music while doing (attempting) my homework. Ahh, the joys of procrastination!

LOVE IT!!!

Oh dear lord baby jesus.

We learned the rest of the dance TEXT@INBOX.COM and it is the funniest thing I have ever been apart of. Maybe. I dunno, but its great. Its fun and secretly perverse and just UGHHH! Its just so ludicrous its perfect. I cant wait to really get it down cold.

The only problem is that my normal partner wasn't here, so I had to do it with this other guy, WHICH WAS AWESOME. He's a really great partner and a terrific sport about the whole thing. Its just going to be hard for him, and this other guy that was absent, to catch on. Let the frustration ensue...

But it'll work!

(knock on wood..)

I do believe in fairies. I do! I do!

Have I spoken about the Book Fairy? No? Well here it goes:

I typically try to read before I go to sleep. I usually doze off mid-word with the book on my chest, heaving up and down with the pace of my breathing. So this one night, when I was still reading The Last Time They Met, I fell asleep while reading (no surprise there). Previously I had been using an old, used up gift card from Yogurt Mill as a bookmark, so when I woke up, I saw instead of a plastic card, A DOLLAR BILL. Just sitting. In my book. THE BOOK FAIRY CAME! :) I personally think that is the most awesome thing that has happened to me in a while. And I'm soooo not going to question it.

Now, I have to read Siddhartha for school. Siddhartha is about enlightenment, the eightfold path, Buddhism, and finding/losing one's Self. Also, a main issue in the novel is materialism and money. And guess what I'm using as a bookmark: THE DOLLAR BILL. Does anyone else see the irony in this?? It seriously cracks me up and brightens my day.

Ahh, the little things...

No regrets.

This weekend I was in Southern California visiting my grandmother, who is in the hospital. She's dying. And I mean, dying dying. She's been dying for the past 4 years, but now its pretty final. She's in a comatose state, but seizing constantly-twitching. She's unresponsive. So, as my family went to the mortuary to make funeral arrangements, the man we were working with, his name was Robin Christopherson, asked us who my grandmother was. As it turns out, I didn't know everything about her. I knew she loved to sing, but what I didn't know was that she was an opera singer. She had a beautiful voice. She was on the cover of Look Magazine for the Top 10 Young Singers to Watch Out For. She was going to be famous and live the luxurious life she always dreamed. And then she met my grandfather, the minister. She willingly threw away her dreams of becoming famous and wealthy and a star, and traded them in for being a housewife and, later, a mother. She loved my grandfather so much, she would get rid of her life as she knew it, and start a new one with him. That's either the purest form of dedication or the purest form of silliness... SO this all made me think: what do I want to do with my life?? And I've decided: I am making a BUCKET LIST. Because I can help but think that if I were in my grandmother's shoes, I might have regretted choosing to completely abandon my hopes and dreams. And as she lays on her deathbed, I cannot help but pity her. Its like I'm looking into my possible future. So I want to get everything in. No regrets.

Bucket List

(I'll be progressively adding things on.)

1. Go on an archaeological dig.

2. Go skydiving.

3. Take an art class.

4. Take a photography class.

*On a side note, I finished my book! The Last Time They Met is absolutely fabulous. I highly recommend it, especially if you like romances and drama (but not the cheesy kind. The real kind). It'll have you hooked right until the very end, and then it will punch you straight in the gut. Or maybe that was just me...

Nothing much!

I'm almost done with my book! Its good. Sad. Romantic. And seemingly full of lust and love. But its very well written. It starts when these two people meet again after some 20 or so years (they're 50 something...) and then it works backwards, describing their lives (separately and together.) Its been really good so far and I have only about 100 (probably less!) pages to go. I'm so excited!!! I feel so accomplished. :) And I read fast, so that's a plus. hehe

Meanwhile, I'm procrastinating like a good little IB student. Ciao for now! I have to go get some caffeine. This will be a long night...

Resolution!

New Year resolutions. I never make any. Why? Well, I don't rightly know. (Perhaps, I'm subconsciously afraid of failing them and then therefor myself?) But, I've decided to make a slightly belated, but never the less fabulous, New Year resolution. And that would be *drum roll please*...

To read more!

God, I love to read. Its so important to me. It lights me up. I love opening my heart and mind to the words on the page. I love putting myself in the character's shoes, I love being inspired, I love being awed, I just love reading. And dammit, I'm going to do more of it! The books don't even have to be giant, huge, critically acclaimed novels that win a gazillion literary awards. As long as I'm reading, I'm happy.

Currently reading:

The Last Time They Met by: Anita Shreve

So far, so good!

Recant!

You know what?! I'm pathetic. Screw what I previously said. Psh, nah! I love dance. And if dance makes me happy, then I'm happy. And damn it, I will perform the parts that I do have to the very best of my ability. And ya know what? That's life. And I'm living. That's all I could possibly ask for.

Another Day in the Neighborhood.

Today was a bad dance day. The rest of casting was put up, and guess what? I'm actually in the ballet. Shocker, right. Yeah I know. I'm in four pieces and for that I am grateful. Its just... Frankly, I feel like shit. For five hours straight I just wanted to scream my head off in exasperation. Its not that I'm butt hurt because I wasn't cast in anything actually impressive or important, because I know I don't deserve it. But that's just it. It has finally come to light that I don't deserve good parts because I'm not good enough. And that's what truly sucks: them finally realizing what I've always known: I'm just not good enough.

And it makes me want to break down and cry.

"Happy Birthday?" The Post Never Posted.

Wow. Its my birthday? When did that happen? Wait, are you sure? Because I dont feel any older... Today I turned an unresounding seventeen. I know I should be excited, and I am! Dont get me wrong or anything. Its just. I dunno. I guess its just anticlimactic. I wasnt expecting fireworks or anything of the sort. Its just... I cant place it. I suppose I'm just unsatissfied with things at the moment. But hey, thats life. And today, I'm celebrating it.

So some girlfriends are coming over to spend the night around nine. It will be good! Its just that I'm not as close with them as I'd wish I was. We've kind of drifted apart a bit. Actually, we were always apart. I consistantly had dance, and they had each other. So naturally, I'd be the fourth

February 19, 2011. This is the letter never sent; the post never posted. I found it in a cyber pile of drafts. Nothing much has changed.

Except I can see R-rated movies now without lying and sneaking in to the theaters! woot.

The norm...

School is school. Whenever people ask me "How was school?", I always find myself replying "...educational." because that's basically all I get out of it. As my social life dwindles to the tiniest of figures, I realize that I don't care. I've got what I need in my life, and that's all I'm concerned about. I cant wait until I graduate so I can just stop fussing and worrying about all this pointless crap that will fall off our shoulders the second we step on that stage to graduate. And when I do, I'm never looking back.

Too bad that isn't for another year and an effing half...

*However, I had a wonderful day in Psychology class, as usual. Psych peeps! You know who you are!!

Speaking of nothing, dance is my best friend and my worst enemy. God, I cant even imagine the words to describe the passion and love and hate I have for dance. Dance is the only thing that matters to me; it will always be my number one priority. But its times like these when I realize just how much I kind of hate myself. Really. Dance, or specifically ballet, is quite possibly the absolute worst thing for me. I have the self esteem of a dirt worm. No, I have the self esteem of dirt itself. So being thrust in front of a mirror lined room, constantly staring at my own inadequacies of the body and the art form I hold so dearly to my heart, but cant quite manage to perfect, hurts more than one could dream. I'm so afraid I wont be able to dance as a profession for the rest of my days as a dancer. I'm terrified what I'll do with myself. I mean, think about it. I've made no real connections. I'm not the most intelligent. My grades are no where near superior. I'm a genetic dead end... I just want to be happy in my life, today and the day that follows. And the only option I can think of to obtain such happiness is through dance. And if I suck, well. Than that doesn't leave me many option.

Occupation/Lifelong career goals:

(in no particular order, except number one)

1. Professional dancer
2. English something (major, teacher, writer...)
3. Photographer
4. Archaeologist

Feasible? Who knows...

And to top it all off, I had a migraine today. Joy.

Hopefully, my tomorrow will be better. I mean, heck, it is my birthday after all...!

Brand New

So, I have previously maintained a blog. I haven't really written anything of value for quite some time, and what I had written had been pretty petty, even so. It was all drastically depressing and although introspective, perhaps a wee bit too melancholy. Thus, I've decided to turn a new leaf in the blogging community and voila! here it is. I am brand new.