Your eyes are holding up the sky-Your Eyes, Alexz Johnson

I've finally discovered what I've found to be so deadly attractive about you.
There's something in your eyes that captivated me.
There, I've found a deep well of something. . .
What it is, I'm not quite sure.
I merely know that it's oh-so bountiful.
Whatever is in there, it's convinced me that you're something different.
That you'll treat me better than others have in the past.
I hope this mystery element proves to be what I'm hoping for,
Some type of kindness, some type of love.
But whta if it isn't? What if it is merely something corruptly concentrated?
A mere thirst to play with emotions, to hurt someone vulnerable, to have some unilateral fun?
That thought frightens me, yet it makes me feel all the more attracted to you.
The way that you look at me. . . it's different, it's special.
It makes me wonder.

Promises broken.

We both broke our promises. Completely shattered, leaving mere shards and pieces behind. Why can't we forgive each other and move on? Why can't we stay friends? Why must you put this barrier between us? You're just as much at fault as I am, why am I the one who has to suffer? You say you're hurting from this too, but then why do you let it continue? In the end, I'm the one who pays the price. This is your decision and I don't get to do anything about it.

Helpless. Desperate. Shocked. A little girl that is left standing on the porch. It's raining outside, the cold is numbing but it doesn't matter. Maybe if she stares long enough he'll feel her eyes trying to drag him back and turn around. The rain is pouring harder, the clouds are growing darker. Seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into hours. She can still see his figure disappearing into the rain, it's branded into her memory. He's not coming back. She feels it's her fault, no matter what the others say. Weeks later, she finally manages to contact him, but all she is offered is a few dry words. . . it does nothing to ease her stiff aching wounds.

Every year things become more complicated. Drama becomes more personal, more vile. People become harder to understand, harder to relate to. These are the things that make me wish I could be a freshman again, these are the things that make me wish I had made different decisions; but then I remember the person I was freshman year and shudder, and I remember the other people I've met along the way and realize it will be worth it in the long run.

Choosing My Battles.

Why don't you
Come right out and say it?
Even if the words are probably gonna hurt
I'd rather have the truth
Than something insincere
-Come Right Out and Say It, Relient K

You say you want me to just say it. You say you want complete honesty, but I really don't think you can handle it. There are so many things I want to just blurt out but I know if I let those words past my lips I would regret it. These words that I have stored inside, these thoughts that linger in my head. . .they are so poisonous, so deadly. If you had the slightest idea you would be shocked. I can't be honest with you, I care about you too much. You say I will never solve anything that way, I call it choosing my battles. There are simply some things that are worth saying, and some that aren't.

There are more constraints put on my words than you notice. Some thoughts that fly inside my mind would kill relations instantly. Some thoughts that fly inside my mind would be frowned upon by society and more importantly, my friends. Some thoughts that fly inside my mind, as I said, would poison you. Some thoughts that fly inside my mind would make you think so lowly of me, I can't bear to let you know. You say I will never solve anything this way, I call it choosing my battles.

Obscurity.

Thoughts fly, thoughts fly; head spins, head spins.
The darkness is overwhelming, heavy upon your conscience.
The darkness is full of wonder, full of fright, full of unanswered questions.
It comes and won't leave without an answer, yet finding that answer seems impossible.
You feel like a blind man, stumbling along. The darkness has completely blocked out the sun.
You crawl from door to door, begging for help but everyone's suggestions seem inadequate. This is an answer you have to find for yourself.
There is danger in this black scenario. You can't see that terrible figure but you can feel it's presence weighing down your heart.
You know it is merely a matter of time until it pounces upon you, tearing your emotions to shreds.
What will become of you now, will you give in along the way?
Will you finally find that light, your answer, and be able to push back these tormenting clouds? This agonizing smog?
There seems to be no hope. Someone will die along the way. It seems like the darkness will soon overtake the entire city.
Will you sit there and watch as your life is thrust into permanent obscurity? Or will you fight the battle in which victory seems so unlikely?

Quick Update #5

Junior year has been such a hassle, but it's surprisingly enjoyable. I don't mind the work, I'm getting to bed at somewhat decent hours. It feels good to apply myself again. I really miss office though. I hate seeing the idiotic things the class officers throw together and not being able to do anything about it. "/ I'm thinking about running for SA (Student Association) second semester. . .maybe secretary or something, but working on Talent Show would be hell on earth.

The La Sierra Band Fest audition music was handed out today. The audition is in a week. Given, it's not very challenging but still I'd like at least two weeks to prepare. I wish we were going somewhere further as well. Last year, we went to Walla Walla & that was really fun. The snow, the Rook games, the 09ers. Good times.

As for my classes individually. . .
-Team Activities (Pe) is the usual. We have a huge class though. It's pretty fun with Sharla, Katie, and the other Hillary.
-Theology, Philosophy, & Ethics isn't exactly what I had hoped for. It feels like a regular religion class, when I was hoping for a more discussion based class.
-Chemistry isn't exactly my cup of tea either. Dr. Benson doesn't lecture so you have to teach yourself quite a bit of the stuff. Today my chem book was stolen. . . FML.
-Honors American Literature is rather flustering. Mr. Stone gets really impatient and hates when you ask him questions to double check. He's a fun guy, but very intimidating.
-Symphonic Band IS HUGE! We have +100 people, way out of control. Never again Mr. Santos, never again. *The two freshman who sit behind me are oh so very annoying and LOUD.
-US History is really easy. Mrs. Yapshing is pretty cool. Really classy, pretty professional, it's a nice feel. I also have Priya, William Bogger, and JAIME (yes, he's back at LLA!) in my class, that's very entertaining.
-Geometry is going to get really difficult, really quickly. On the bright side, it's practically Mr. Jarrard's sixth period all over again. Extremely enjoyable.
-Spanish II is good. I like Mrs. Saeger, Profe. She only speaks to us in Spanish, which is very good for the conversational side.

Alrights, I'm out.

I'm in Check, Mate.

How do you have this power over me?
Who died and made you king?
I don't know why you would play me like your poor lifeless pawn.
I am slowly being annihilatedby the girl you have chosen to be your queen.
Why would you do this to me? You promised you wouldn't.
You promised you would keep me safe, you said you were different than the rest.
Yet instead, you have ruthlessly thrown me into your game.
It is just another game for you, I'm almost sure.
All you care is that your queen is satisfied, that she has enough tears shed to give her satisfaction.
I want to resist this terrible opression.
I want to rise up and show you what I am worth,
but I feel that if I do attempt to do so, you will merely push me down again.
Reminding me that I am a mere pawn in this game.
Maybe one day I'll be able to cross this love game of a board, but that day is so far away. . . maybe even too far away.
She has set so many traps for me along the way. . .
I am younger, inferior.
She has so many years of experience at this game and she has made a point to show that.
She has trapped me in her path. . .perhaps I should turn and retreat while I still have that option.
Why won't you stop her? Do you not want me in your life?
I want to stay a part of you, please let me. I'm still fighting this battle, although the chances of overcoming are so slim.
Let's at least compromise, don't let her play a dirty game.
Stop giving her tips for how to win and give me a fighting chance.
Allow me the chances you are allowing her. . .
I could show you. . .or at least I would try.

I'm over it.

I'm tired of our stupid arguments. I'm tired of you bringing up the past. I'm tired of wanting to cry on the phone, trying to decide if I want to let you know, and merely ending up sitting in my tears once you hang up on me. I'm tired of not knowing. I'm tired of telling you to fix yourself, and of you telling me to fix myself. I'm just over it, it's not that great of a relationship.

I've tried to callous myself towards you, yet you just made me feel guilty in the end. I don't understand why you do this to me, why we do this to each other. Why can't you just understand we're too different, we're just not cut out for each other. Why can't you just cheer up and put a mask on, like the rest of the world. If you pretend to be happy for long enough, maybe you'll end up that way.

I hate how jealous you are, you don't have that right. I hate how hypocritical you are, your double standards are sickening. I hate how you can't understand me, how you refuse to understand me. I hate how you try to pretend like you haven't changed, when I know we both have. I hate how no matter what happens, in your eyes I'm the one to blame. I hate how you try to force me into living and holding up your ideals, when they're not mine. I hate what you turned me into. I hate what you let me do to myself. I hate what you did to get my attention, you selfish child. I hate what time has done to us, too much of it. . .I think it's time we go our separate ways. . . yet I hate how I can't stand to see you walk away so miserably.

I'll pay later.

Have you ever done something you knew would hurt you more later? I don't mean like not studying for a test or stealing something. . . I'm having trouble putting what I want to say into words. To cut to the chase, for me it's looking back in my pink book. The pink book is a compilation of other people's poems, my poems, and quotes. I like looking back in it, but afterward I'm always put into a really strange mood. . . it's kind of like a quiet sadness? Weird analogy, but it feels like a dog's pitiful whimpering. . . it's a disturbing feeling.

Let's go back to yesterday,
When you made my problems go away.
Everything was so simple,
Laughing, talking, hanging out.
But nowadays everything is so different.
I don't think things will ever be the same.
The warmth in your smile, the laughter in your eyes...
Gone. Like yesterday.
--anonymous.