You'd Be Suprised

For my favorite Aunt. I think of you everyday, I want you to know that I love you, I always have and I always will. This may suprise you, but I really do miss you...
You'd be surprised at all that I've become.
You'd be surprised, I've changed while you've been gone,
And I learned so much more from you than I could ever say.
If you were here, I think that you'd stay...

You'd be surprised how far these arms can reach.
You'd be surprised there's a promise I can keep.
Would you believe that I seldom fall to pieces anymore?
If you were here, you'd like what you saw.

You'd be surprised my life is often sweet.
You'd be surprised it's you who brings me peace...
And for some unearthly reason it takes losing you to see,
If you were here, I'd know just what you'd need.

You'd be surprised I've loved you all along.
You'd be surprised I now confess when I am wrong,
And I see the world around me in a slightly softer shade.
If you were here, you wouldn't walk away...

You'd be surprised if you were here...
We'd make time for all that's disappeared.
And I would hold you like I never could.
You'd be surprised if you were here...
We'd make it right; there'd be no tears,
And you'd confide in me and I'd be there.
I'd be there...

You'd be surprised at all that I've become...
You'd be surprised.

There's a fine line between love and hurting and knowing just when to walk away.

Today did not go well. I feel like the trash dumpster divers discard. Rejection is something we all have to face I suppose. This is just too much. I keep making myself believe that one of these days I might be good enough for somebody or something, but alas, failure. Even my revised essay got laughed at when my teacher read it to the class today.

There is a rather significant difference between wanting something and wanting something more than anything else in the world even though it is painfully obvious that you're just setting yourself up for disappointment. Being told you're not good enough SUCKS. Being told you're not good enough for the only thing in the world that truely matters to you feels like getting told to stop trying, to just give up. I wish, I wish, I wish with everything I own that people could see how much I care, yet all they see is laziness and irresposibility.

There's this song I heard when I was little,

Namesake to Elizabeth,
her daddy's pride and joy;
baptized in her mother's tears soon after she was born,
because the doctor said she'd never live to see her sweet 16,
it's a miracle she beat those odds
and there's still no promise she will see tomorrow...
and when she cries, she cries in slience,
but never for herself-
she cries for everybody else.

I wanted to be that girl who would never let the pain show, and who would always be taking care of others. I felt, feel, like that's the only way to deserve to live. Even when I was wishing with everything I have to get the role I wanted in the All-School-Musical, I was wishing with everything I have for my friends to get the parts they wanted as well. They got the parts the wanted... I'm left standing in the dark, completely forgotten. Oh well, that's what I've wanted all along isn't it? I guess theatre is that "exception" for me. It's my everything and now my everything is destroyed. I should have never let myself fall into the trap of hoping. I see now that it was a mistake. I just thought that maybe if I admited to myself how much I wanted this and I let myself believe that it could happen that others could see it too. I was horribly wrong.

And the cherry on top is that I found out 3 minutes later that my Girl Scout scholarship application was rejected as well. It didn't even phase me that I could NOT get that scholarship. I've been a very involved Girl Scout for 14 years... I'm 18! I guess everything happens for a reason; I would like to know what I did though so I could rite this.

"The Writer" by Richard Wilbur (b.1921) with commentary and introductory analysis

In her room at the prow of the house
Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story.

I pause in the stairwell, hearing
From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys
Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

Young as she is, the stuff
Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:
I wish her a lucky passage.

But now it is she who pauses,
As if to reject my thought and it's easy figure
A stillness greatens, in which

The whole house seems to be thinking,
And then she is at it again with a bunched clamor
Of strokes, and is again is silent.

I remember the dazed starling
Which was trapped in that very room, 2 years ago;
How we stole in, lifted a sash

And retreated, not to affright it;
And how for a helpless hour, through the crack of the door,
We watched the sleek, wild, dark

And irridescent creature
Batter against the brilliance, drop like a glove
To the hard floor, or on the desk top,

And wait then, humped and bloody,
For the wits to try it again; and how our spirits
Rose when, suddenly sure,

It lifted off from a chair-back
Beating a smooth course for the right window
And clearing the sill of the world.

It is always a matter, my darling,
Of life or death, as I had forgotten. I wish
What I had wished for you before, but harder.

Isn't it beautiful? We read this today in AP Lanuage and it made today all the more bareable. I love the simplicity of the authors writing style, or maybe just the lack-there-os; seeing as the poem and the symbols within is anything but simple. We were told to take 5 minutes and write a thesis and opening paragraph in responce to the poem, mine isn't anything special and I plan on doing many revisions, but for now, I like what I came up with:

Many times throughout the struggle for life, or the journey to death, people find themselves abruptly taken back by the mundane tasks or sights of daily rituals and are forced to recall the epic story each life leaves behind.

As the author observes his daughters life from afar he remembers the starling trapped in the room, unable to fly away from the cruel realities of life. He watches from the slightly ajar door as the poor bird struggles to find an escape. Not without a great deal of pain, the bird finally finds a way out of the room that so unfairly took it captive. It found the freedom and the "lucky passage" everyone wishes for through it's own struggle and it's own path (or so we'd like to believe.) Sadly, I sopose, it is important to be noted that no matter how, or if, freedom finds us that it will always only be a matter of life or death.

"You're orginal, cannot be replaced."

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, ready to start again? Do you ever feel so paper thin, like a house of cards one blow from caving in? Do you ever feel already burried deep, six feet under- scream, but no one seems to hear a thing? Do you know that there's still a chance for you, cause there's a spark in you, you've just gotta ignite the light and let it shine, just own the night like the fourth of July.

Baby you're a firework, come on let your colors burst! Make them go, "oh! oh! oh!" as you shoot across the sky-y-y! Baby you're a firework, come on show them what you're worth! Make them go, "oh! oh! oh!" you're gonna leave them fallin down-own-own!!!

You don't have to feel like a waste of space, you're original, cannot be replaced. If you only knew what the future holds, after a hurricane comes a rainbow. Maybe the reason why all the doors are closed, so you can open one that leads you to the perfect road. Like a lightening bolt, your heart will blow, and when it's time you'll know you've just gotta ignite the light and let it shine, just own the night like the fourth of July.

Do one thing that scares you every day.

This is my first mobile post :) I think this is a good idea. I don't mean go bungee jumping, unless of course, you want to- just please don't forget the bungee chord. I do mean try something new, say your deepest, darkest secret out loud, try squid, or maybe finish your calc homework. Before you fall asleep at night, figure out what scary or challanging thing you're going to face tomorrow. Something besides just waking up. Goals give you something to work for, to fight for. So, when your long term goals seem out of reach or everything is too much of a mess to fix just screw it all and start something new.

I hope I'm able to take my own advice here. I'm feeling somewhat inspired so I thought I'd record my good feelings while they last so I can turn to them later. I think I like this blog... Well, I will until it gets me into trouble. I really have no idea where this is going so I'm just going to leave it at that.

Oh, and for any hard core readers looking for a fun book, try "Girl Inturpted" by Susanna Kaysen or "Dancer" by Colum McCann. I'm at Barnes and Noble right now reading up a storm :)

My cheerleaders

I'm feeling a little bit better today, I got to talk to some very missed people.  It turns out that I actually do have some people there to stand by me, even if they are hundreds of miles away.  It's nice to know that those people who shoot me down aren't going to be attacking me my whole life, they'll find new targets eventually, but my cheerleaders are here to stay and I am too.  One day at a time- that's how I'm going to play it from here on out.  I'll get through this, if not for me, than for my cheerleaders.

heads up

Have you ever felt completely useless? Have you had those days when you think to yourself, "If someone told me I had a terminal illness I would be glad it's almost over?"  All of us are bound to have these thoughts sometime or another in our lives.  Some of us have them more often than other, some of us earlier on than others.  Regaurdless, when that day comes we are able to get through it by telling ourselfs about this "greater purpose" blah, blah, blah. I used to buy into that, but lately it just seems like I'll always be worthless.  When you ask people what they think of you they tell you that you're beautiful, or caring and you know they're just being nice- only pretending- and PARENTS, don't even get me started, they only say they love you because you're their child and you're their obligation.  Deep down inside them you're nothing but a lazy, undeserving, disappoinment of a daughter.

Sometimes you feel like that ALL THE TIME.  You run away from home, you push yourself to the edge of the earth and you want nothing more than to jump off.  Sometimes you want that escape so badly that you create that terminal illness, you push yourself so far that you literally become sick, then there's no turning back.  The illness is your only friend, the only one you can truely trust to not let you down.  Then you find out it's real.... you really are dying, but WAIT- there's a cure, why would you want it? You wanted this right? You deserve this!  It's not about dying anymore, just about suffering, you're a disgrace, you bring dishonor to everyone, your a reject- the runt turned away from even the buther because you are worth nothing.  You're a waste of oyxgen, of space, and of time.

What next?  So they told you your diagnosis.... it's not what the average person would call "ideal" but I'm no average person.  I'm not "emo" or "goth" or "punk" or "rockabilly" or any of those styles that dictate my personality.  In reality, I am pretty upbeat, cheerful, deceiving, and fun to be around.  I understand all too well how to approach just about every social personality, I could fit into just about any clique.  I've recently been asked who I am, seems pretty simple right? Wrong! I have no idea who I am, what do I want, what do I do for fun? Why do I have friends who break my heart? Why am I afraid of living?  I fit everywhere because I can paint myself into any picture, where ever I may be there will always be a little extra room for the fly on the wall; the one that's just there.... nobody minds, nobody pays attention to, nobody deserves to have to waste their time caring for the fly on the wall.

So death is knocking on my doorstep- if I had a doorstep.  I ran away many months ago just before I got my diagnosis, since then I've been living from couch to couch of good friends and I've recieved a few more diagnosis.  No set time frame yet, still waiting to get an MRI and EPG... somedays I do want to get better, but for now, I want to embrace the pain, I've caused so much pain and Karma is getting revenge.  I want to take what I deserve.  Right now, this fly doesn't even deserve the wall to rest on.