Take it to the Blog

Sometimes I just wanna lay on my stomach with my face on the ground and...take it to the blog.

At times I want to see the look on my friend's face as she grips her diploma and write about it in my blog.

More than often I just want to explode but already know I'm a forgotten land-mine...at times like these, I take it to the blog.

Frequently, I feel the wind on my skin and taste the aftermath of last night's storm; when I feel alive I take it to the blog.

My life is a roller coaster with no seat-belts, so I'm afraid to let go of the handle bars. If I let go, will I fly away or crash and burn? Sometimes I really think I will fly away from this place. At time I know I will crash and burn in the pits of this hell. However, is living day to day, always with hands on the handle bars really living? When will I let myself fly?

Are they happy?

Are they happy? The people I see in the hallways. The people who seem to have the brightest smiles. The people with all the popularity, money, and expensive clothes. The people I always wanted to be. Are they happy? The girls who cry because only when they stain their favorite dresses. Are they happy? The people who don't have to experience the real world because they're hidden in a bubble? Are they happy? I hope they are.

Am I happy? The girl I see in the mirror?  The girl with the broken smile. The girl with 3 friends, a job on the weekends, and hand-me-down clothes. The girl I never wanted to be. Am I happy? The girl who cries because she would rather die feeling like nothing than waiting to be something. Am I happy? The girl who is afraid to experience the world again, so she hides herself behind walls. Am I happy?

Yes. Yes I am.

You don't understand.

"You don't understand." How many times have I said this? How many time have this been said? How many times have teenagers plead the case of, "You don't understand?" We, as teenagers, for some strange  reason, believe we are the only teenager on the planet, and that is why, "You don't understand." However, just for a moment, let's think. Does anybody truly understand anyone? You can't read somebody's mind.

"You don't understand," because you don't, you really don't. You don't understand why I used to be suicidal. You don't. Don't even pretend that you do. I am not bullied or harassed or anything you happen to be thinking of. I just believed I had a life not worth living.  Just when I think I find someone who understands, it turns out they don't. My best friend who went through depression and seems to be perfectly in-sync with me, didn't understand. He just assumed my problems were about boys, parents and school. Yes, those things were contributing factors, but that wasn't quite it. I couldn't explain it to him. The girl who cuts her own wrists because the sight of her own bloods allows her to breathe again. I thought she would understand. She didn't. She was more fascinated with what I did with my thoughts than what my thoughts actually were. Lastly, is the boy who I have know since, I don't know, maybe, forever. Let's just call him Robert. Robert and I against the world. Always has been and, hopefully, always will be. He recently told me he was gay. This didn't come to a big shock to me because he made it almost obvious his whole life. Still, he used to deny it, so when people called him gay, I told him he wasn't. So, I decided, to make him more comfortable about being gay, I decided to tell him my big secret. My big secret about my thoughts. He told me he understood because he used to be suicidal too, but I knew he would never truly understand. I may have let it go, but he made me realize the worst eight years of my life were over. I was over the hill and into the clear. Even if those were the worst eight years of my life, he was there for every step. I don't want to live in denial anymore, just like how I don't want Robert to either. I didn't "used to be" I am. I am suicidal, and I'm trying. I really am. But for now, if you do not understand this post just ignore it because "you don't understand." You probably never will either.

I Love You

I Love You

People always scold me or question why I want a boyfriend so badly. Isn't obvious? I want what everyone around me has: love. Yes, my mother loves me. The woman who says, "I hate you," more than she says the words "I love you." yes, my father loves me. The man who has never said those three words to me, and the man whom I will never be enough for. Yes, my brother loves me. The boy who looks at his sister like she's a waste of space. Yes, my sister loves me. The girl who is never home to say it to me. Yes, my best friend loves me. The girl who cannot even love herself. My grandmother loves me. The woman who was the only one who saw something special in me; the woman that died three years ago.

What do I want?

I am not asking for a boyfriend; I just want somebody to care and actually listen to what I have to say. I want someone to hold my hand and tell me it's okay, and I want someone who can tell me it's not okay too. I want someone to tell me good night and ask me how my day was. I want at least one person to try to understand this mess I call a mind. I just want someone to tell me if I finally see a therapist, no one will think I'm crazy. That someone is me. I want to love myself. I want to accept that I'm not a monster and that people do love me. I want myself to stop pushing people away because of the fear of rejection. I want to be loved by me.

My Old Friend

My Old Friend

I'm not afraid of death.  I test death every moment I can. I used to be afraid of dying. I'm not anymore. I saw her lying there. Dead. The word "death" doesn't burn my lips. Not like it burns yours. After he took her I will test him. You won this battle, but you won't win the next one other the one after that. That's why I refuse to die. I will not let you consume me. When I am old, wrinkly and gray, I still won't die. I will live after I die.

The Start of my Breakeven

break-e-ven [breyk-ee-vuhn]having income exactly equal to expenditure, thus showing neither profit nor loss.


The definition of the word, "breakeven" is not moving nor special. Its simply is the result of neither profit or loss. That's good right? Wouldn't you rather breakeven than lose? I did not pick breakeven as my title because of anything of its defintion. I picked breakeven because. It's on of my favorite songs. Lame. I know. I used to listen to the lyrics. They were sung by a heart broken man. That would never be me. A couple moths later. I would came to screeching halt. Now that broken-hearted man was me. No, I was not a man, but I was equally heart broken. I didn't go through a bad break up or anything of the sort. My grandma died. I don't want your pity nor your condolences. 

Breakeven-By the Script

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing 
Just prayed to a God that I don't believe in
'Cause I got time while she got freedom
'Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even

Her best days were some of my worst
She finally met a man that's gonna put her first
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping
'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even... even... no

What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're ok?
I'm falling to pieces, yeah,
I'm falling to pieces

They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
'Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving
And when a heart breaks no it don't break even, even... no

What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you?
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're ok?
I'm falling to pieces, yeah,
I'm falling to pieces, yeah,
I'm falling to pieces
(One still in love while the other one's leaving)
I'm falling to pieces
('Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even)

Oh, you got his heart and my heart and none of the pain
You took your suitcase, I took the blame.
Now I'm tryna make sense of what little remains, ooh
'Cause you left me with no love and honour to my name.

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayed to a God that I don't believe in
'Cause I got time while she got freedom
'Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break...
No, it don't break
No, it don't break even, no

What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you?
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're ok?
(Oh glad you're okay now)
I'm falling to pieces, yeah
I'm falling to pieces, yeah
(Oh I'm falling, falling)
I'm falling to pieces,
(One still in love while the other one's leaving)
I'm falling to pieces
('Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even)

Oh, it don't break even no
Oh, it don't break even no
Oh, it don't break even no