It's.....a text.

From you.
To me.

I wasn't expecting that...
Not after the other night when you went a little 'manic depression' on me.


I didn't like the silent treatment.
A little too...dramatic I guess.
And not very subtle about what you thought of me.
But hey.
I'm just happy you still texted.
Just like you always do.

And I guess it makes me more happy to know that you won't stop..

Recording.

MADI

MADE

A

CD

TODAY!!!

Here's hoping that it turns out alright. Depsite my flem and muccus. Despite that fact that I didn't really know the songs that I was singing.

Or that I made up a few new lines.

Or sang the wrong notes.

Or swore a little too much during the actual recording.

Despite all of that.

I think it's actually pretty good....

IT'S NOT FAIR

How am I 'sposed to answer that???

It isn't fair!

If that question just so happened to be asked.
Then yes, I would be screaming with joy on the inside.
Every part of me would be begging to say 'yes'.

But no.
I couldn't.

And that's not fair.

Because I'm so wrapped up in doing what's right for everyone, all of the time.
I never do what's right for me now, do I?
Though I would probably cry for weeks afterwards, knowing that I shouldn't let the Angel on my shoulder win.
Give in to the devil.
Though things will be bad for a while.
It's what's right.

Then how come you got upset?
How come that answer made you stop talking.
Made you 'go to bed' way too early.
How come my 'right' answer is wrong for us?
And how come the 'wrong' one is right?

How come I'm not thinking in terms of what I want, or what you want.
But what they want.
I'm not friends with any of them.
I shouldn't feel bad for this, should I?

Fuck it.
Fuck them.


Yes.

I need you back.

I need you.

I need you to talk to at night.
I need you.

To talk to me.
To sit on the couch with me.
To stroke my hair and tell me stories.
To laugh with me when I laugh at you.
To keep my feet warm.
To confide in me like you say you can.
To offer me money all the time even though you know I'm just gonna shove it back down your shirt anyway.
To laugh at me when I trip over and not help.
To make me smile like you always do.
To give me a reason to laugh.
To keep me entertained.
To call me when no one else does.
To bully me into singing for you.
To bargain with me.
To make plans with me that we both know we won't keep.
To bitch about your best friend to me, because you know I won't say anything.
To sniff my hair and tell me I smell nice.
To hug me randomly.
To pick me up.
To text me just to ask how I am.
Or wish me a good day.
To throw me off the couch because I pay you out too much.
To say you're going to hang up on me, when we both know that's not going to happen.
To tell me that I'm beautiful.
To make me jump everytime my phone buzzes.
To help me stop worrying.
To make me forget about anything when we talk.
To confuse me.
To stall when I ask you something personal.
To freeze up when I touch your back.
To make everything I say a dirty joke.
To never judge me.
To distract me.

I need you because you need me.

There's not much to blog about these days.

I guess I could talk about how my mum went insane again..
Threatening to take my phone off me.....again.

The fact that she now sleeps with her door open to listen to what I'm doing.
Or looks for the light from my phone under the door at night.

Or maybe how my phone bill was $116 this month.
And how next month it's going to be around $500.
Also, how I'm pretty sure that's going to push her over the edge.
GOODBYE PHONE.
I don't know when I'll see you again.

....I have to find me some money.


Anyway, I was talking to a certain friend of mine about my dear mother.
Laughing at the shit that's happened in the past. The stuff she thinks she knows about me, but really doesn't.
The fact that whenever she thinks I'm doing something wrong, I'm completely innocent.
And whenever she thinks I'm being good, I'm actually doing the opposite.
Or how she thinks she's gotten through to me by tightening the leash.
When in essence, all she's done is challenge me.
And I love a challenge.

Well, that lead to quite a deep conversation about parenting.
And how you see those really protective parents, with kids that can't ever do anything, and eventually those kids grow up hating their family, acting up, getting arrested, moving out on their 18th birthday and getting their eyebrow pierced.
Then you see the parents, who care, but don't cage their children. Let them do things, but still set boundaries.
Those kids grow up with a healthy relationship with their family, feeling free but not alone, and knowing that they can stay at home without being caged like animals.

Who do you think is going to be more successfull later in life?

I can tell you, it sure as hell won't be kids from that first group.
With over-protective parents, being caged, no freedom, no say, no life.
Kids like me.

I don't fucking get her sometimes.
She thinks she's helping me for my future.
YOU'RE NOT, YOU COW.

You're holding me back, not letting me prove that I am old enough to do these things.
Not believing in me.
And you wonder why I act the way I do.
You think you've done so much to lead me down the right path, when all you've done is make me want to walk back and start down my own.
I do these things because I have no freedom.
I hide these things because you threaten me everyday.
And you cry because Mitchell moved out.
"What made him want to leave us like that"
I WONDER WHAT FUCKING MADE HIM WANT TO LEAVE.
You.

We can't wait to get out of this encolsure.
Somewhere where we don't suffocate even if the doors are open.
Where we can speak for ourselves.
Make our own decisions, our own mistakes.
Get away from this family.

Don't get me wrong mum.
I love you.
I just don't like you.

Shhh, it's a secret...

......I miss you already.

I didn't realise.

Don't make anyone a priority when they only make you an option.


Thankyou Genah.



I see how it is with you now... But that's not going to help me.
You mean too much to me.
I can try, but it's too hard to just let you slip away gradually.

I don't know what you see me as, what I mean to you.
Am I mistake? Is that it?
Or am I just someone you can unload your problems on?
I don't think I really mind aye.... I guess I just want to be there for you.
I'm just hoping someday you'll see what I do for you, and realise what you've done to me.

SHAZAM!

AND THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE.

Jealous??

But shhhhhh, it's a secret....

Until Monday at least.

I LOVE IT!

I think I'm sorry.

I keep writing you letters, I don’t know why.

I don’t know why I can’t just tell you these things, why I have to type them out before you can read them. Before you can know.

And I certainly don’t know why I feel the need to post them on here.

Eh.

I’m sorry.

I know that things have changed between us because of what happened.

And I know there are things that you now keep from me because of that.

I don’t need to know those things if you don't want me to.

I guess, I don’t want to let what happened draw us apart.

I’ve been trying so hard not to bring it up, and to keep talking normally.

You’re not helping me.

I don’t know why I’m saying sorry.

I’ve done nothing wrong.

For a week, I’ve strained to keep you close, and you’ve pulled away.

We fight constantly, and I’m always the one apologizing.

I have no reason to apologize. You’re the one that says these things to me.

You're the one that somehow manages to force tears down my cheeks when no one else can.

I try everything to keep you happy, but nothing I do is good enough now, is it?

You used to put me above the others, tell me things you wouldn’t tell them.

Fight with everyone, confide in me.

Now look at the change.

Can you see it as clearly as I can?

You always fight with me, over the smallest things.

Then I apologize.

You put others ahead of me now, even when I say that I need you, you say that you’re too busy.

Then I apologize.

You constantly question everything I say, looking for faults in my stories, though I’m only trying to help.

Then I apologize.

I guess that’s why I’m saying sorry.

I’m sorry I’m not fucking good enough for you anymore.

I’m sorry that I try to help you.

I’m sorry if I text you sometimes when you don’t feel like talking.

I’m sorry that they’re more important to you than me these days.

I’m sorry I like to make sure that you’re alright.

I’m sorry if I cry because you cry.

I’m sorry that I tell you things I wouldn’t tell many other people.

I’m sorry that I don’t say ‘sorry’ enough.

I’m sorry that I care when no one else does.

I’m sorry because apparently this whole thing is my fault.

I’m sorry I can’t read your mind.

I’m sorry that I try everything to keep my emotions hidden so I don’t hurt you.

I’m sorry I’m not as great as them.

I’m sorry I want things that you don’t want.

I’m sorry if I sometimes don’t sound as enthusiastic about your dates as you do.

I’m sorry that whatever emotion you feel, I feel too.

I’m sorry that I let you get to me.

I’m sorry if I care what you think.

I’m sorry that I listen to you over others.

I’m sorry that I rank you above a lot of other people in my life.

I’m sorry if you can’t see that.

I’m sorry if I call too much.

I'm sorry if I text too much.

I'm sorry if I visit too much.

I’m sorry if I care too much.

I’m sorry because you don’t care.

I'm sorry because I believed you when you said that you did.

I'm sorry that I didn't see this coming.

I'm sorry that no matter how hard I try, I will always feel the same.

And I’m sorry I ever fucking wasted my time with you.

Hello you.

Firstly, I'd like to say thankyou.

Not one of those cheap thankyou's that get tossed around a little too often these days.

Not just a 'thanks'.

But a proper, written from the heart, thankyou.

I'm known as a slut.

I know I am.

Someone who just 'gives it away'. Yeah, those are the words that I've heard.

I remember one night, we were fighting. You were telling me that I have no morals, and I just 'like a good fuck'.

Ouch.

I also remember the way that made me feel.

People say that to me all the time these days. Seriously, to my face.

And you know what? I don't care.

I brush it off.

Then you say it, and suddenly I'm crying.

Probably because I don't want you thinking that.

I remember after you said that, choking on my tears so that you wouldn't hear them. I hung up.

I remember having to wait an hour before I got the wording on my text just perfect.

And I remember saying this.

I don't know what makes you so special. Why I couldn't seem to stop crying after you said that.

I've never taken it so personally before. I joke about it, just like everyone else does behind my back.

I think it's because I'm afraid of losing you.

I think, deep down I know that even though some of my friends may even say these things to me, they will always be there. They won't leave.

And I think that I'm scared you will.

I'm scared that I might not fall into your standards.

But what I need to say to you right now, is this.

I know you think I'm a slut, and I know you think that I can't control myself.

But you're wrong.

Do you think that if I had no control, I'd be home right now?

They always ask me to come see them, every day, every night. They ask if they can come over, every day, every night.

And every day, every night, I say that same thing to them. No.

And yet, you know that if you needed to see me, I'd be there.

One night, you said you were in a shit mood, and needed to talk to someone.

Within half an hour, I had climbed out of my window, caught a cab to your house, and turned up at your back door. At midnight.

I stayed with you until 5am, making sure you were ok.

Then snuck back out, caught a cab to the end of my street, and ran barefoot up my hill, in the rain.

And then you think you have the right to say that I don't care about you. And that I would ditch you for one of my 'boy toys'.

What the hell made you think you have that right?

I actually do care what you think. And if you don't like something, I change it.

But now I'm not so sure.

It took guts to send you that message.

One, because I didn't know how you would respond to it.

I was afraid that you would be angry, and that you really would stop talking to me.

I was scared that I'd said too much.

Two, because I really care what you think. I always have.

Three, because you made me see myself for who I truely am.

Nobody.

But still, I write you this letter to say thankyou.

Why?

Because I love you.

Because I've never been able to talk so easily to someone in such a short amount of time.

Never have I actually wanted to keep talking on the phone for so long in one night.

With you, there's always something to talk about.

Always a reason to laugh, smile, giggle, cry, etc.

Always something new and interesting.

When we talk, I forget about everything. To the point where my dear mother has to storm into my room and peel the phone out of my fingers after 4 hours.

I've never cared so little that my phone bill is around the $500 mark.

And I never thought I would thank someone for that.

In 3 months, you have changed me. How I think, how I act.

My perspective on life is happier, brighter.

Because I know you'll always be there.

There are few people in my life who I can honestly say have ever made me feel so wanted.

Ever made me so happy.

And I can honestly, from the bottom of my heart, say that you are one of them.

I love you with every fibre of my being.

And I know now, that nothing about my past will change how you see me.

I'm sorry for when we fight.

Because I know you only look out for me.

Some people, they use me.

I'm just someone that they can 'unload' their problems on.

Do you have any idea how hard that can be?

To have everyone constantly telling you stories, asking advice, talking about how much they hate life.

And I try to help. I'd like to think I do a good job.

But afterwards, what happens to me?

I become a nobody again.

They only talk to me when they have a problem, never when they're happy.

And then I'm left feeling shitty, bombarded with issues. While they go off and be happy with their more important friends.

Are they ever there for me?

When I have a problem, who can I turn to?

In my life, there are about 3 people who are willing to listen to me.

And I love them to death.

You're one of them.

Thankyou for everything.

For the friend that you have been to me, even if I haven't been such a great one back.

Thankyou for caring so much when no one else does.

Thankyou for always making me smile.

Thankyou for sending me random messages for no reason other than to wish me a good day.

And thankyou for letting me know, you will never leave me.

New me.

I woke up this morning, a changed woman.
I don't know what happened, what it was that caused the change. But I got out of bed, looked around and thought,
"I'm older than this."
Not older in the sense that my room was childish.
But older in the sense that my room was a mess. Dirty, dusty, digusting.
I was ashamed to have woken up in it.

So, I got to work.
4 hours of cleaning, I'm still not done.
Moved around my bed, table, everything.
Bags of crap were thrown around, begging to be chucked out the door.
So I did just that.

This very moment, I'm waiting for my dear mother to take me shopping for new furniture.
A new, clean room. For a new, clean me.

Guess what!

It was one of the best nights I've had in a long time.
Had the best time.
Talked about the funniest things.
I laughed so hard I had to keep a pillow over my face.
I made her smile. The first one I've seen in forever.
I was out for 6 hours, doing nothing special.
And got home in the happiest mood. Not tired. Not anything. Just happy.

Guessed what happened yet?


You never will.

I think..

You think, it's all over.

That there's nothing there anymore.

You're wrong.

I think, that it's better off that way.

That we should just keep pretending.

That's right.

And So Here We Are....

It's happened.
Why aren't I happy?

Cuz you aren't.
I'm upset because you are.
I'm feeling the pain that you are.
I'm angry at her because you are.

I'm trying, I just, don't know what to say to make it better. I don't think I can say anything.
I mean... What is there left to say to you?
Be selfish, don't let them walk over you, or tell you what to do, or what is right or wrong.
Listen to yourself, do what you think is right, don't let them do that to you.
But I've said that to you too much already. And I don't think it's as easy as I make it sound.
So I'm sorry.
But I'm here to listen to you.
It might feel like no one else is there, but I am.

It's Just Another Manic Saturday.

Except it's Saturday.
And it wasn't 'manic' as such, actually, pretty good in all.

Work was good. Not too busy, not too quiet.
I supervised for a bit =)

Urgh, ok, I'm a bit of a hyprocrite I guess. I got mad at someone today for not working.
Alright the thing is, I do work. When there's something to be done, I do it. If there's nothing, then I talk. But only when there's nothing to be done.
Then you get some people, who just don't ever do anything, ever.
I swear, he did coathangers at least 5 times in the space of half an hour, while everyone else was actually working.
So I got mad.
Told him I was fed up with looking over every 5 minutes and seeing him doing fuck all.
No one likes work. That's for sure.
But we get paid to do a job. And if you don't ever do it, then why get paid?
He looked like he was about to cry.
But it got him working, finally.
I felt kinda bad. But it needed to be said. Or he'd end up jobless.

Well I finished at 2pm. Didn't actually leave until 2.15pm, stupid lady didn't know how to recharge her phone credit.
THAT'S NOT MY JOB!
"Well, you sell this stuff, you should know how to work it shouldn't you?"
"I understand ma'm, but it's not part of my job to actually do this. We sell it, but it's not part of our job to actually apply it to the phone. I really shouldn't even be touching your phone right now."
"Ok, well could you at least hurry up and figure it out? I just want to go home, ok?"
*glances at clock*
"Yeah, and I finished 15 minutes ago. So I'm here on my own time."

.....She shut up.

Hahhahaa, I love my job.


All in all, it was a pretty good day.
Happy long weekend everyone!

Ahhh, decisions.

Tonight I faced an epic decision to make.

I had a number of options actually.

1. Do one/attempt a few assignments

2. PARTY

So, I did what every normal 16 year old girl does on a Friday night.

I made a sandwhich and watched Fern Gully.

OH MY GOD

I KNOW!

Rebel much?

I dunno. Guess I wasn't really in the mood to do anything else. Just wanted to veg for a bit.

And with Miss Gabby out tonight as well, I had no one to talk to anyway.

: (

"Human tails? Human's don't have tails. They have big, big bottoms that they wear with bad shorts. They walk around going, "Hi Helen!"

I want a batty.

Hmm, what else is new......

Uh... you know there's something wrong when you hear a noise, turn around, and find your dog eating his own tail....

Contradictions

I lied.
I told you I would never hurt you.
But I did just that, didn't I?

All the promises I made to you, the nights I spent helping you. It was all a lie.
But even though you might never want to trust me again, I'll keep trying.
You probably won't believe me, but I'm going to do whatever it takes to build up our friendship again.
I love you and I'm not letting you go.

I didn't always lie to you though, like you may think.

I meant it when I said that you were amazing, that I really care about you, that I only flirt with you. :-P

I was speaking the truth when I told you that I couldn't find one single thing I didn't like about you. And I challenge anyone to find something.

You said you forgive me, and I'm hoping you do.

I know I messed up. But I'm not leaving it like that.

I will redeem myself.

I didn't expect this to happen. Neither did you. Aye?
But it did.
And guess what, just when things were getting good, I fucked it up.
I guess, in a sense, this has made us closer.
But will it ever make things easier?

I'm trying, I really, really am.

It's funny.

Even as I talk about all of this. And I know in my heart what needs to be done, what I want to do.

I know, that, it never can.

What my heart wants and what is right are two completely different things.

And fuck me, I always have to do what's right by everyone.

I told you that. I don't know if your reaction was serious or not.

I can never tell.

I guess, there's no point dwelling, aye?

Time to move on.

Which is what I'm doing.

But.... Something tells me that you aren't too happy about that.

That kills me.

This whole fucking mess is killing me.

But it's what's right.