seeking solace.

No matter how much you love someone, or how much they love you, there is always that little window in time when you feel alone.
Like this world and the people in it are nothing more but misunderstandings, and everything you thought you knew was solid fades away with a shift in thought.
There's nights when I lie in bed and I think of nothing but you and how to make it better, but it seems, no matter what I do, it will never be enough for you.
Nothing I do is ever enough for anyone. I'm constantly surrounded by people who make me feel inadequate.
I wasn't good enough for my mother to remember to take her medicine so she wouldn't become abusive.
I wasn't good enough for my father to stay off the drugs, out of prison, and in my life.
If I could never count on my parents to love me, how could I possibly have the reassurance that anyone else will?
You will never know the ghosts that plague me, and you will never be attentive enough to see what lies behind my anger.
Or maybe I am really that good of an actress. Like mommy said, practice makes perfect. She would know, she acts like she loves me. How can I ever tell the difference? When is it real? Does true love even exist? Or is it just a figment in our imagination, encouraged by Disney.
Why can I put my fingertips down on a keyboard, or slip them around a pencil and press them to paper, then write everything I feel and desire. Why can't I function in a relationship the way my words function in a sentence?
How come you showed me how to write about love, but never taught me how to maneuver when I'm in it?
I look at you when you sleep, and lose my breath. When you open your blue eyes, my heart stops.
Your lips aren't any less lethal.
Without you my heart would stop beating.
Or does it stop beating while I'm with you?
When will my journey for solace stop.
When I hear your voice? Or will that sweet symphony be my downfall?
I'm barely hanging on, and nobody will ever notice.

there's a monster high doll in my purse.

I guess that's what occurs when you wake up at 8 am (I went to bed at 5), and go to babysit 4 kids.
They are 6,4,2 1/2 and 1 1/2. YAY ME! They weren't half bad, and they all went down for a nap.
So mission babysit without pulling my freshly dyed hair out, accomplished.
And here is me, still putting off reading... i don't know why I do this to myself when I know I could finish the novel in 3 hours if I actually sat down to read without all these worldly distractions.
The Poisonwood Bible- By Barbara Kingslover, is what I'm putting myself through. A good novel, full of symbolism and brilliant themes. Sexism, racism, contempt, this baby's got it all. But unfortunately, the analysis and sift card work keeps me from enjoying it all that much.
In the novel, there's a character named Adah, she has a twin, Leah, but unlike Leah, Adah has hemiplegia. Which is basically the condition of being slowed and lamed by her asymmetrical brain. She has this funny way of looking at things backwards and forwards to examine them. To her, everything is a palindrome. When she walks she limps, and drags her right side. But yet she reads at college level, learns languages fast as hell, and has more understanding of her father's wrong doing more than any of the other children. She comes to terms with her condition and begins to cherish it, because without her lameness, she wouldn't see the world in a different light. She's cynical, yet more appreciative of what she's been dealt than any of the other characters.
To say the least, I envy her.

why don't lunchables have the little red stick to spread your pizza sauce in them anymore?

I really don't understand it. Does it cost too much to put a little piece of plastic helpfulness in the lunchables? because honestly, if they still put the little plastic red stick in pizza lunchables, I would definitely buy more pizza lunchables. that way, I wouldn't look like an idiot while eating them in public. Well, when I decide to eat them in public anyways.

life is always like that isn't it? As time goes by, all the little things that brought you happiness begin to go away.

Land before time movies, hey arnold on nickelodeon, yo yo's. If you're over 25, you probably don't give a damn about what I'm saying. But if you were born in the nineties, you know what's up. 

It's alright though, I'm one of the kids that buy the five dollar 'Ferngully' or 'All Dogs Go To Heaven' movies at Walmart.

Oh and I've recently come to the conclusion that if the government banned internet porn, the citizens of the United States of America would rise up, and kill every last official.

It's just a Wednesday night.

 and school will be here in a week! It's bad enough to have all this grueling AP Lit work, and now I have so little time to finish it. what the hell is mr.armstrong thinking? giving us godly seniors, 5x7 card work and reports that end up 7 pages long. I'm just waiting for that moment when we walk into class the first day and he screams, "JUST KIDDING! you did all that work for nothing!".  because that's just how he is. just about as temperamental as a bull that you ran behind and slapped on the ass. I always try to be the one that doesn't slap him on the ass. anywho, it's hard to say how I feel about life right now. excited because my senior year is starting? sad because my father is dying from liver psoriasis. or enraged because a few days ago my mother told me she wished she would have gotten an abortion because her life would be so much better. But who cares how I feel about my life right? In the end, all you can do is say your sorry, and in the end of the end, that still isn't enough.