My new motto.

"Life is the way it should be."

I've recently come to that mindset, and I think that if I stick with it, I'll be much happier.

I haven't ever been kissed or had a boyfriend, and I'm 15 years old. Normally I'd say that it's pathetic, but now I won't. You don't get anywhere worrying about it. And worrying about it does not fix the situation. I've decided I'm going to wait until it comes, because I know that since I've waited so long for it, once it does come it's going to be amazing. I'm not going to force something to get it over with so I can say that it happened.

I want my first kiss to be cute, spontaneous and will make my heart flip like never before.


I'm on a swim team. I love to swim. But I'm not at all good at it. I've never been athletically coordinated in any way. I think that I was supposed to be this way at this point in my life. It's a challenge, a test, and I'm supposed to overcome it.

When I do overcome it, it will be the best feeling in the world. I'll feel content and happy with myself.




Quick, shorter blog today. Summer will be here soon.

Jealousy.

Moriah is one of my best friends. We have had so many memories and I love her so much. But this year, she's been hanging with a different crowd. That's fine with me. I'm in fact also friends with a lot of the kids she hangs out with and they're awesome. I'm happy she found such a nice group of friends. But I guess my issue is that I'm jealous. Jealous of many things.

Jealous because she found her intimate group of friends and I still don't know where mine is.
Jealous because it seems like she has everything going for her.
Jealous because even though she loved and lost, she still loved while I'm still in the shadows.
Jealous because she likes them better than me.
Jealous that she can confront them about more things than she can with me.

I'm a terrible "best friend." I know she still likes me and still is friends with me, I'm just still so fucking jealous of her other friends. It's horrible. I'm the worst excuse for a friend ever. I'm selfish and I'm greedy. But I love Moriah. She's a sweetheart and she always makes my day. I just wish I had that close knit group of friends like she does, instead of having friends all over, though there's nothing wrong with that.

This year, she came out. She's a bisexual. She was dating one of my other friends and I never knew, because she never told me. I'm fine with homosexuality, but I was so upset that she told everyone but me. When I found out from her girlfriend/my other friend, I confronted her about it. And I just cried and cried. And she just looked at the ground. I know she still cares about me, and I know we're still good friends. But I'm just so fucking jealous of her. And I feel absolutely miserable.

Dear reader...I hope you do not think me selfish or constantly jealous. I don't think I am. I'm just jealous and full of emotion...full of anger. Anger at myself.

I hope things work out.

A very good friend of mine told me something special today.

We were talking about how she does horseback riding in shows.
And how I love to swim, but I've never been athletically talented.

And she says to me: "When you love something, it doesnt really matter if you're good at it or not."

I'm sure you've heard that before, one way or another.
But it still brought the tears to my eyes.

I love what I do.
I love to write, I love to make music, I love to swim. I'm probably not very good at any of these things, but I love it. And that's all that matters.

Some people are filthy rich, but they aren't happy. Because they got rich doing something they didn't love. And I'd rather be poor and doing something that I have a passion for. Because that's what life is all about. There is no time to waste.

"Do what you love, and fuck the rest." - Little Miss Sunshine

I haven't had time for a long entry in a while. I'm sorry. I just need more time to think.

I wrote this for Writing Club last Tuesday. The prompt was: Imagine you go back in time, killing a butterfly in the process. How would the future be different?



I place my hand on the time machine and squeeze my eyes shut. The machine vibrates violently; it scares me. I'm about to pull my hand off the metallic monster when it abruptly stops.
I force my eyes open and quickly scan my surroundings. I've successfully taken myself back to the prehistoric era. Or should I say, the end of it. The Earth has been freshly tattooed with hurried footprints and every hundred yards or so lay a huge, rotting carcass of some unknown creature. The peaks in the distance ooze with molten lava that blends with the color of the fiery sky.
It's very eerie; I take a step back. Something crunches under my feet. I look down and see a butterfly. I can't believe that I killed it! Horrified, I step back once more and run into my time machine, accidentally flipping the switch. I can feel myself being transported back to the future. Quickly, so I'm not left behind, I grab the handle and hold on for dear life. Next thing I know, the spinning has stopped. I had unconsciously closed my eyes again, and I now opened them with relief.
OH MY GOODNESS! This couldn't be the year 2008. But the number on my time machine proves that it indeed is. Like the prehistoric era, it was barren on all vegetation. There was no grass or trees, and no birds chirped from above. No ants journeyed through the damp, brown earth. There was not even a fly. No buildings could be seen, because there were no people. Just endless, dark dirt meeting an endless, pale sky at all corners of the Earth.



I wrote that in less than half an hour, and I didn't edit anything except for a few spelling errors as I was typing it in. It's not that excruciatingly good I don't think, but I liked the prompt and it's the first thing I've written in a long time that I was particularly proud of. So I felt like sharing it with you.

Numbers.

4 months since he went into the hospital.
47 days since he died.
40 days since the funeral.

I'm still barely living through every day.
I miss my grandpa.

He didn't deserve to go that way.