Soundtrack to my Life.

I think, it's an amazing when you have someone in your life that transcends any level of friendship that you've ever had.

Like when every fiber of your being wants to be there and help them. I just think it's a grand feeling.

It only happened once to me. Like, today actually.

So, I'm on myspace talking to my friend. And he's going through a lot. And outside of the fact that I started to feel sad, but I just wanted to rectify anything I could. Deal with the brunt of his problems just so he wouldn't have to.

I think connections like these are a necessity to survive. Once you can get to this level of realization just in general, I feel like things become brighter. I'm not only living to do right for myself, but for others that truly depend on me.

I've got some issues that nobody can see
And all of these emotions are pouring out of me
I bring them to the light for you
It's only right
This is the soundtrack to my life, the soundtrack to my life.
-- Scott Mescudi

Where'd You Go .

It's quite funny when you realize that people in your life are slacking.

And then when you alert them of it, it seems as if it doesn't phase them.

Current issue in my life, is trying to recapture back a loss companion. Maybe I make a big deal out of things <--- which is a common theme in my life. But whenever I make a big deal out of something, nine times out of ten, often there is a lot of truth to what I am saying. While analyzing others, I analyze myself. I do realize that I have dependency issues, and when one leaves my life, I have to immediately find someone to fit the empty spot. Usually I don't fret over that person leaving, 'cause I know people are here for reasons, seasons, blah blah blah.

But I just simply cannot lose this person. Just talking to them, I can hear the difference within them and it's astounding how just a few hours can change everything.

Regardless though, no matter how infuriating they currently are, I'll stick by. I lost, or in the processing of losing my brother. They are the only one I could truly connect with on that same level. =/

He said "Some days I feel like shit,
Some days I wanna quit, and just be normal for a bit,"
I don't understand why you have to always be gone,
I get along but the trips always feel so long,
And, I find myself trying to stay by the phone,
'Cause your voice always helps me to not feel so alone,
But I feel like an idiot, workin' my day around the call,
But when I pick up I don't have much to say,
So, I want you to know it's a little fucked up,
That I'm stuck here waitin', at times debatin',
Tellin' you that I've had it with you and your career,
Me and the rest of the family here singing "Where'd you go?"
-- Mike Shinoda

On My Own Time (Write On!)

I don't know what draws me back here, so often. But I guess whenever I have something that just sits on my chest that gnaws at me until I want to burst -- this is the place.

Something about this week has just been eh-ish.

I think, maybe I had a great saturday, and I put myself way to high.

But, a lot of small things have been building up.

First, is that sickening feeling of losing a friend. I mean, I tend to look waaay too much into things. It's just how I am. But, at the same time, I just see signs of losing a friendship that I depend (depended) on. I feel bad about talking to the person about it, for it's not even like I don't care about them. It's the exact opposite, but something intangible is stopping me every single time.

After that, I could go on and on about the horrors of friend zone and how truly torturing it is, but beating a dead horse is just so tedious. At least I can claim an improvement in the fact that it's not Paranoia.

Then, I don't know if it's just the fact that I compare myself to people too much. I just feel disappointed with that I am doing and everything.

But like Kibby says. "Self-pity is only allowed once a year, unless you're Qaree, then you can't do it at all."

I just need time to walk it off,
but I can’t do it
I’ll write it on my own time
Hey look I made it on my own (on my own)
I know she thinks that I don’t try, but I realize that I can do better
Write, write on
Makin’ a mess as I progress
No time to cry about it, do better
Write, write on
- Gym Class Heroes

5th Period English Assignment .

In english today, I was assigned with the task of writing about an experience that changed your life.

=)

No need to follow up with what I wrote about, but here it is. We had to submit it onto this website where we get graded for our work.

___________________________________

"Paranoia"
Talking about an experience that changes your life is a hard task. Everything in this world is subjective, for one can proclaim that not having a parental figure in their life is worse than losing a soccer game. However, in all of my short life of fifteen years, I have had the pleasure, or rather the curse of being the closet to being in love. The love that makes your stomach flutters nervously when they are around. The love that keeps you up at night, tearing up, and making you hates yourself and that person with every tear that escapes your eyes. The love and hate, coupled together forged an experience that makes anything else pale in comparison. This is not a story of an adolescent boy finding what he thought was love; this is a cautionary tale for everyone seeking out what you covet the most.

At the ever so ripe age of thirteen, I was definitely a mess. About forty pounds heavier, neither sense of swagger nor the maturity I pride myself for having now, one could get the picture that love was the least of my worries. So, imagine as I walked into my class one day, and there I saw her. It was not like in the movies where the light shines solely on her, and my heart starts running into overdrive. But I definitely felt a heart string or two tugs in her general direction. I decided that I wanted to get to know her, and completely immerse myself into her world. This was the first time I got exactly what I wished for. First being declined by her, then after a month or two went by, we became friends. It was like everything I liked, she liked too. There was nothing that was off limits, and we both shared each other’s true, unfiltered selves. But, as do most things in my life, the great things tend to go in the exact inverse, and soon the one who I thought was actually “the one” turned into my greatest foe.

I thought, maybe admitting my feelings would end these repressed thoughts of sadness and anger. We were in different circumstances, and at the end of the day, same people, yet radically different. I finally rationalize that I only wanted her; for I knew she was off limits. Yet, all great villains from the movies or comic books never die the first time they are slain, and she proved to be no different. She ended up going out with someone, which was the first in many blows dealt directly to my soul. Yet, throughout it all, I stick by the fact that she knew how I felt. I tried breaking free from her, and not talking to her. But as if I was entranced, she drew me right back in. I followed her like a lost puppy, and deflected the rumors of me liking her and we remained like so until the summer.

I dub my summer with her the “catalyst”. Feeling like I was under control, I could actually confine with her once more. Then, a series of events plague us, and suddenly my intense feelings of infatuation, slightly tinged with lust crept back into my body, and as the school year started, it manifests itself into a beast. A howling, constantly shifting, and ever so present beast that sat at the tip of my tongue every time we spoke to each other. The start of this school year mirrored the start of the last one, yet I focused it all with her. Of course, new people waltzed into my life. Females that I was willing to give my heart up to, but it did not matter, for she was it. I was so adamant on the thought of her and keeping her happy, that I neglected other friends, family, and even myself. The reward for such devotion was standing there and helping her as she pursued other males. But that was the thing; I was locked up into her. Even though it pained me beyond belief to help her find her love, I knew my role was to be her best friend, and help her out until she was ready for me.

The moment when everything boiled over, and I achieved what I wished for, that was when I realized it was not worth it. Everything became quite clear one day, as I realized the implications of everything that went on. Little thoughts that lived in the back of my head dashed out to the forefront, and suddenly I just knew, she was just simply not right for me. There is only so many times one can give their heart out on a silver platter, and watch it dissected, smashed, and handed back. The only thing I could take solace in was that the ends justifies the means, and what I am going through, eventually it will equate to something. But so far it has not. I do not like playing the victim role, and yet I find myself permanently there. My modus operandi completely changed just to keep up with her even morphing personality, and there was a time I looked myself into the mirror and honestly questioned who was staring back. The feelings of paranoia, frustration, and anger accompanied with her existence made it terribly difficult to talk to her. However, what hurt even most was seeing the one that I could see myself loving, marrying, having the stereotypical American dream with, morphed into a creature that I have never ever dreamed of encountering. Perhaps that was always there, and I just updated my senses, or my perspective has just been seriously warped. Either way, the day I am rid of every trace of her will be a day I look forward to, if for nothing but to give me hope.

Experiences are a funny thing. With age, they become distorted until they are only a fragment of the former truth, yet people’s lives are directly affected by them. While it is superficial to say love has affected my life so extremely, without a shadow of a doubt, I know it has. I was propelled into growing up faster than I ever would want to. I became, or rather I am, a shell of my former self, and I have to deal constantly with the scars she left behind. I wish to say even at this very moment I was on my way to being rid of her. But she is just a presence that will always haunt me.
_________________________________________________________
And for the record; first submission:

friggggin' beast.

=)

** just a slight add-on.

I honestly don't believe I have as been as livid as I currently am.

That's all.

("

Pursuit of Happiness.

Life is graaand.

I think, I figured out my purpose in life. Hah, and it's kinda funny as to how it happened.

So it's saturday night, and my sister was coming back home, so I was chilling in her room. My brother called me up, and was talking about his problems. And at first, I was getting distracted by a movie and a game, but when I actually focused, I just found that I can analyze a situation and figure out what's wrong. Then my other friend texted me saying tha the needed me, and I proceeded into helping him. Then a friend called me and needed me to take care of something for him. What's so amazing about him calling is that, we don't really talk anymore. In 5th grade, we were cool. And a bit last year. But him calling me asking for help, even if it was insignificant in the long run, it still makes me feel good that people recognize me as someone that'll help 'em. Or be there.

*Not that I'm getting a messiah complex, ahahaha.

So, I decided, I'm going to help as many people as I can. Not even trying to do it for a philosophical or a religious reason. But I think I feel so useless if I don't.

I guess, it's all about one's own personal pursuit of happiness.

I got into a rather fierce argument with my dad over my online courses and stuff, and I was telling him how I'm overwhelmed with keeping up with my school work, extracurriculars, volunteering and helping out people. And then he told me what's the point of helping out everyone else if I don't have time for myself?

But where would we be if we only looked out for ourselves primarily? Maybe I'm too naive. And I know from past experience, people don't give the same courtesy back. But I try not to dwell on it too much. It's their modus operandi.

Other then the growth of a complex, I find myself stumbling into new romantic situations. I don't know what to say about "Paranoia". Right now my head is pounding but I don't think it has to do with her. But it seems like my bad moods seriously correlates to her talking to me more often. Maybe I'm being unfair to her; as I tend to do. Or I'm just justifying her actions again. Ughhh. Headache is throbbing even more.

I think I'm going to get distracted by another female again. Just to ease things on. But I feel like a hypocrite for telling everyone to confront their issues head on, and I'm not. But after so many times of saying the same thing -- I can honestly say I'm done.

But, I'm going to wrap this pity party up, 'cause there's no point to it.
Why waste my time talking about things I can't change.

HAH. Okay. Random Fact. I laugh awkwardly whenever I get like seriously seriously blown away. Like currently. I'm slightly speechless.

"Tell me what you know about dreamin’ dreamin’
You don't really know about nothin’ nothin’
Tell me what you know about them night terrors every night
5 am, cold sweats wakin’ up to the skies
Tell me what you know about dreams, dreams
Tell me what you know about night terrors, nothin’
You don't really care about the trials of tomorrow
Rather lay awake in a bed full of sorrow

I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know
Everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold
I'll be fine once I get it, I'll be good"
- Scott MesCudi

Lipstick.

She uses me once again.
Twist.
Push.
Pull.
Whatever her method is, she always finds a way to yank me out my comfort zone.
She coveted me once, only off of what she saw.
Now I’m nothing but an accessory to a crime of stealing man’s hearts, and
leaving them behind in shreds.
Without finesse, she rubs me all over her lips.
But doesn’t she hear me?
I scream to break free from her overbearing grip.
To escape the dark, confining prison she mindlessly shoves me in.
But how heartless is she.
She just uses me, over and over again.
And I am a cohort in countless thefts and murders.
Until she uses me up, and buys another one.
If only she would hear me.