Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to hurt me.

in no particularly coherency...

I am about to embark on a decision that I suppose I'll regret. At this point, there's no other option; I brought this upon myself.

I have become more of an angry recluse within the last few weeks because of this, and I feel like I should apologize to everyone who's gotten the blunt end of it. I've felt like I've had more confidence to confide in strangers than my real friends or even my family. It hasn't been a fun experience, but I'm learning from it.

I have been struggling immensely, losing sleep, and feeling angry all the time. I feel like I'm about to explode because I can't open up to anyone close to me, who loves me; but I've "reasoned" that I can't because it will make them love me less.

But nothing I confess will make you love me less - at least, it shouldn't.

I won't go into details. But this is slowly killing me, and once I take the steps to correct it I'll feel better.

I absolutely must get this rectified by Friday, however, or I'll likely be dropping out of school. Don't freak out, it's not a huge deal. Well, it is, but I really would not like to hear about it. "Work hard, you can do it!" I know. But I don't want to hear it now.

The plan as of now will be two classes in the spring, and then one class in the fall. Yes, one. Because I need to get my bearings back. I need to get my motivations right. I need to re-figure out why I'm doing this. Finding a goal will help.

I've never liked those teachers that say, "This is hard, but you made it into BYU, you'll be fine." I HATE those. Getting into BYU was an academic struggle for me, I got in for some God-driven reason by this music talent I won't be able to fully utilize for the rest of my life. But I guess I'm being ungrateful.

I need to learn to love myself. There's so much hatred in me, but I'm going to get better. I'm going to stop beating myself for my weaknesses, and I'm going to start giving myself credit where it's due.

Love is not a priority for me right now. Relationships would be nice, but I'm just not in a place where it would even benefit me in the slightest. In addition, all talks about dating and relationships will account in a heavy sigh and a glazed look on my face. You've been warned.

Sometimes, when I'm out and around, I'll pull into a heavy silent mode to see if anybody's watching out or paying attention. They often aren't.

Caitlin (or Lassie, as we called her) is gone. She died. I don't know why. I suspect suicide. But I haven't even told anybody that I never even met her. Doesn't change the fact that it punctured my heart like a thumbtack to a corkboard. All those little holes make big ones eventually.

Internet friends should be real too, and I don't understand people who think that those are any less valued than "real" friends. Caitlin was real to me, she helped me in her own way. Sarcastic, yet endearing, and she always seemed invincible; you were in trouble if you ever took her seriously, cos she never was. I think she forgot us, in the end. Maybe she remembered us when she woke up on the other side, I'll never know.

Speaking of the internet, I'm currently in a fake internet relationship for the lols. It's changing me more than I anticipated.

I think it's safe to say that I can logic myself out of love. There was only one case where this hasn't been the case, and that was in high school.

Firsts don't count. Love especially.

I'm writing a story, and I'm darn well proud of it. Unfortunately, I don't think many people will read it because it's "quite dark for me".

My relationship with God is lacking. But... I feel like he understands and is watching out for me all the time anyway. That's pure love, I think. Doesn't hurt that he's omnipotent either.

You know that one saying? The one where it talks about if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans? That saying more or less convinced me not to make any plans ever, because he would trump them all the time. It's hurt me in a lot of ways.

My sleep habits have been all thrown off because I like the darkness and the silence. The day is often too loud, I think.

I'm still in love with Pokemon. They're my escape, and I think it's useless for me to try and stop playing the games.

My Illinois-friends are becoming more and more stranger-worthy, and I'm oddly MORE than content. If you'd had told me that three years ago, I'd have wondered what you were smoking. (Pink, anybody? heh.)

I miss Kit, though. Oh, man, how I miss her. She's the most of a sister that I never had.

It makes me sad when people pick about their families. I miss mine a lot.

I need my hair cut.

Music speaks to me in a way I'm not sure a lot of people understand completely. I see colors sometimes, and I can feel the artist. I can hear what was on their mind, I can sense it came from the heart, I can feel that they're trying to reach out to others and tell them "Hey, I feel this too."

Once, I asked a boy I liked what he loved about his music (he was obsessively into punk rock). He said, "The reason why I like it is why most people don't. It doesn't try to be anything. It's pure sound and emotion, and they do it cos it's what they like. No forced sound, y'know what I mean?" I agreed and he asked me why I liked music; I lied and said harmony. I can still remember his smile. "You know music, that's respectable. I bet you think this is all below you then, huh." I told him I was open to anything if they can make a good argument for it. In honesty, I just need to know what to listen for.

Whenever my mom remarks that she doesn't like a particular song of mine, a switch is hit in my brain and I instantly hate it. This doesn't happen with anybody else, and because of that I'm very protective of my music with her.

It floors me what little of me people actually know.

I hide secrets in plain sight. I'm not very original like that.

If I were to be sorted into a Hogwarts house, I'm pretty sure I'd actually end up in Hufflepuff.

I just realized tonight that a guy that I play pinochle with is a LOT like my dad. I'm surprised I didn't realize it sooner. For that, it's a lot harder to come to terms that we'll be losing him to Georgia in the fall. Also that I kinda like him, but that's an issue that will likely dwindle away with time. You know how it goes, distance and all that.

The older I get, the less invincible the world seems.

It's always surprising to me how much of that star-struck awe goes away when it snows.



I know that in the recent past, I've said that the more I use words the less they have any meaning.
But these words... these ones label and define me.
Use them sparingly.

Depression is taking hold like an icy claw around my heart, ripping and shredding and pulling as it gouges and digs and cuts its way deeper into my body; hollowing out all feeling and replacing it with dead air and gloom and apathy.


I can't take much more of this. Just make it stop, I'm not strong...

to my friend who sent me a text message at 2 in the morning:

what is "prefect... evil laugh" supposed to mean?? I don't trust you. I'm changing the locks on my door.

LOVE,
rach.

p.s. you lameo scheming whatever-you-are. I'm glad we didn't have a Patty's Day Party for you!

edit: the next morning...

me: what is that supposed to mean?
him: huh?
him: In think I am missing something...
me: you sent me a text at 2am.
him: my phone is locked and in my history I don't see any text messages that I sent to you...
him: what did it say?
me: "prefect... evil laugh".

we talked about it later, and apparently his phone decided to send a lot of out-standing texts to people. I just can't for the life of me figure out what he would respond that to. XD

So... you know the languages of love and blahblahblah? Pretty sure mine is somewhat made up.

the quantity of quality time. the time you spend won't mean something unless I know that you mean it.

I don't care what you think. I think that's the best way to show me that you like me. If you come over with me and spend oodles of time with my roommate instead, fine. I don't want to spend time with you, either.

Pfft.

So concerts and photoshoots and long talks (NOT about you and your problems) are good. You being content to ignore me, not so much.

mrrrr.

...

I hear you.

Literally. You're upstairs, hanging with what's-her-face.

...

Should this hurt?

My shoulders are so tense they're stiff and sore. My mind is so exhausted, it just refuses to look forward and work for this. I just... I can't....





(Two parts of the same song, I know.)

I just want to give up, but that's not an option. I just want it to go away, I want to go HOME.


I want to be free.

mar = shadow in Torres Strait Creole. (which, whatever, I've never even heard of that language before in my life XD )

now you know.