^

The thing was: It wasn't enough.

I think I tried to be enough. 

And I think I tried to convince myself you were enough. 

But you weren't. 

Aren't. 

I miss you. 

I wish that was enough.

^

I am here. 

I will be here for at least two years. 

I must be. 

I will be. 

My purpose is to be. 

Not to impress. 

Not to compare. 

But to find the place. 

Oh, the elusive place - - 

That always seems just out of reach. 

Where I am content. 

I have to displace myself. 

Mind you, not change myself. 

Maybe change will go hand in hand, 

But that can't be my goal. 

I must displace myself to grow. 

I must make art. 

However, I cannot brag, justify, belittle, or stop. 

These are the rules. 

I charge you this: 

Live.

 And for God's sake - -

Live boldly. 

I charge myself with this. 

^

God,

I want to stop thinking about living my life

And actually live it. 

I want to stop thinking - - 

Will people like me if I do this? 

And throw my inhibitions to the wind. 

Dress up not because I am going somewhere fancy, 

But because I am fancy. 

Eat better because it is good for me,

Not because I'll be thinner. 

Have dessert, and not stress. 

Cultivate moderation. And happiness. 

I want to -  

No, need,

  To live in the now

Not in the 'what if?' 

There is this rule.

When writing (in certain situations) don't ever use the word YOU. 

It is too personal, and puts the reader on the defensive. 

I think I will write a letter, 

Which will read: 

YOU have hurt too many people,

YOU are not worthy of the time it took to write this.

YOU, yes, YOU,

Should stay well away. 

I'll use the word YOU in hopes that it will put people on the defensive. 

 But in actuality, I know I'd never write the letter. 

Or for that matter send it. 

For once, I'll let this work itself out.

In other words, reign in my meddling ways.

But gosh, sometimes . . . sometimes, I can't help myself. 

^

There is a sort of sadness that has been lurking. 

Not staking any claims or darkening my life continually. 

Just . . . lurking. 

On certain days I am perfectly fine. Everything seems to be pitch perfect. The tops. 

And then.

 Slowly, spreading like ink, the sadness comes. 

Nothing monumental ushers it in. 

Nevertheless, it stays.

Always on the corners. 

When it grants me a respite, I lose my inhibitions. 

Frantic in my need for the joy I so long for. 

Self-pity is a drug, and I get bone-breakingly high.


Every single day.


I say this to make a point to stave it off (whatever this elusive it is)


To find that place where I can just be.

Ugh

Sometimes I hate fighting.

..... Oh wait, that's all of the time. Seriously though, I really hate fighting.

Annoyed.

I am my own worst critic. This I know. And am trying to change.

I am so disappointed right now. You know why?

Because I don't get to go see my friends in TN.

I'm about to cry or something. ugh.

"In act one, nobody wanted my action dead or alive..."

Good goodness, yesterday my parentals decided that tonight should be my audition night.

My stomach is climbing up the walls. No idea where why I decided to mix two expressions like that.

But really. SO nervous.

Its tonight. At seven.

See? Even my sentences get all choppy and awkward.

Wait. . . maybe that's just normal for me.

Yeah, probably.

I know you're probably really tired of hearing this, but please pray.

And for a specific, not necessarily that I get in the play (though that'd be superb), but that my nerves are quieted and that I have courage.

Those are the biggies right now.

Nerves and courage. See I'm the type of person that is very outgoing around friends.

But when I have to get up in front of people . . . that courage is gone. I mean GONE.

I shake, I fidget, I talk fast, etc.

Nevertheless, I know, without a doubt, that God helps.

And that is why I am asking, no, insisting (!) for your prayers. (Okay, maybe its more like begging)

Now, without further ado, I have more government to do. Hey, guess what, that most definitely rhymed. :)

P.S. Once this audition is over, I'm sure you won't get as annoyed at all my silly nerves and dishing about it. Sorry for that by the way.

I know... all I post about is school.

I was thinking that my senior year was going to be easy. Then I was talking with my mom about my course schedule.

Trig

Physics

World Lit

French (YES!)

Russian (ummmmm... really?)

Possibly Spanish (!!!!!!)

Piano

Economics (with a new AP course my mom wants me to take... again... really?)

Sewing


And I need a whole bunch of electives. And I'm planning on running for President of the Key Club again.

So much for junior year being the hardest year.

In which G-ma buys her own condo!

Today I realized that after only two days of playing tennis again, (just volleying with my family not anything spectacular), my wrist has started to hurt. I feel like a weakling, but I'm going to try to play again tomorrow, AND run after ALL the balls....haha yeah right.

I have a creative writing assignment for British Lit this week, and I have to write twenty-nine brief character descriptions. I just realized it's really hard to write briefly about your family, because you know SO much about them.

Also, my G-ma (Grandma, isn't it cool that she lets us call her G-ma?), is back from her travels to Oklahoma and Tennessee (to visit her other kids), and living with us again. But... wait for it.... she just bought her own condo! Its really close though, so she won't be far, which is really good. She's also planning on teaching me how to sew and possibly crochet! Yay! Sorry I couldn't resist the rhyme.

Anyway I just realized that this post is just a tad scatter-brained and loopy, so I'll go now.

Over it.

Do you ever have those days when your back, head, and heart hurt? If so you know how my day has been. I've felt recently that I've been going through a kind of spiritual desert. And I honestly am ready for it to be done. I don't want anything to do with it, and I want God to take my aches and pains. And stress and anxiety. I'm just over it. And that my friends is all for now.