Remember the date.
I know I will.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Procrastination.
Of the serious kind.
It's our weekly admin lesson, I should be doing physics, considering it's due next period and I am yet to actually start it.
But hey, I can wing it.
I think.
I hope.
Maybe not.
.....I should go...
It's our weekly admin lesson, I should be doing physics, considering it's due next period and I am yet to actually start it.
But hey, I can wing it.
I think.
I hope.
Maybe not.
.....I should go...
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Friday =)
My weekend started with a big, loud BANG!
The bang of excitement. The bang of 4 girls tripping and falling down the stairs. The bang of the shower door as we realised he was in the shower. The bang of our door when they walked past while we were getting dressed. The bang of my ass as I hit the floor after tripping over a permanent marker.
Needless to say, Friday night was exactly what I needed.
Ashy Ray, Me, and Ally.
I can't describe really how much fun I had that night. All I know, is even though Ash and I weren't really all that keen, I'm so happy Sally dragged us along.
So happy.
Talking my mum into letting me sleep over at Ash's on Friday night, convincing Megan at work that I really was too sick to work the next morning.
Convincing Mitch and Jordan to bring us some alcohol...
Wearing one of Sally's beach shirts as a dress over my bikinis. Getting on stage and winning a 'bootie shaking' contest
.
Getting grinded on...not by any males....but by a female.
Having my ass pinched too the point where I lost count. Slipping on a permanent marker and flying into a group of happy dancers. Signing 'lick' across as many chests as I could find, including many of the boys.
Walking outside to find Mitch and Jordan standing under the light post like they said they would. Trying to find their car, only to be told they had stolen a ute to get to the dance for me.
Walking back to meet Lianna with her bags, Mitchell carrying 3 bags which included Passion Pop, Goon Sacks, all that cheap stuff.
Walking past the security guards trying not to make eye contact. Sneaking the bags into our overnight stuff without Ally's mum seeing.
Lianna diving on top of the bags as Ally's mum attempts to 'help' us carry our stuff. The clash of the bottles as she walks towards the car.
The vodka shots at Ash's house. Me sculling half a bottle of red wine because the others wanted to know what it tasted like. Mixing Passion Pop and orange juice into a drink that tasted like SEX.
Hearing a noise outside and sending her puppy out to investigate incase it was a robber wanting our drinks...
Attempting to bake cookies using Passion Pop as a subsitute for all the ingredients. My head feeling so heavy I couldn't get off the floor. Toby humping my face and hooking up with me, while the others laughed because I couldn't stand up. Prank calling anyone we could think of. Wanting to sneak out, but no one wanting to be the 'designated walker home' for us all.
Going to bed in Ash's room, sleeping on the floor in a pile of clothes. Waking up realising we had left a fair bit of evidence down stairs. Walking into the living room, trying to figure out exactly what happened that night. Because as it turns out, apparently we didn't like the way the furniture was set out, so we decided to rearrange the couches.
No one really remembering a whole lot about that night.
Scrubbing so hard to get the 'lick' off our boobs, only to find that it doesn't exactly come off.
Going to Ash's primary school fate, trying to cover out chests as much as possible. Getting sunburnt within the first hour. Walking past the police stance, feeling guilty, my bag still had both full and empty bottles.
Having a craving for water and hot chips, so that's what we spent all our money on.
Getting picked up at 2pm, thinking I could go home and sleep. Instead, being taken straight to Stafford City for grocery shopping. Looking like a whore because I hadn't taken my make up off, with scruffy hair, struggling to walk properly, headache. Trying to avoid work because I clearly hadn't been sick the night before. Worrying because my dad had thrown my bag into the boot, even though he had failed to hear the crash of the bottles against each other.
Getting home later to shower and clean myself. And hide my leftovers.
Ash has the rest at her house.
Apparently, eyes being bigger than your stomach goes for more than just foo
d.
Laughing at the fact that no one knew how hungover I was.
Crashing and getting the shits at everyone later that night. Falling asleep later than I would have hoped, and being dragged out of bed early Sunday morning.
Having to work, but being in the best mood once I was there. Being told that the new kid Matt likes me, and realising how obvious that was, and how slow I was. Seeing his face light up when I spoke to him, even though it was usually because I was paying him out.
Being the stereotypical 'young, blonde chick in Home Entertainment' who didn't know what she was doing for the first hour I was there. Because I actually didn't know what the hell I was doing. Everythig had changed since I was last there.
Working out the back with Fatty, organising a party at my house.
Skipping around, signing my contract finally. Getting picked up, accidently mentioning that I had seen Mitch on Friday night. Covering it up by saying it was because he was there to pick up a friend.
Staying up late watching movies.
Going for a 5 hour walk to a park with my beautiful girl. Getting her mum to drop me down the street from my house before my mum got home and realised I'd been gone all day.
Going over Friday night, every time, I remember something different about that night.
Yes, this weekend was exactly what I needed.
The bang of excitement. The bang of 4 girls tripping and falling down the stairs. The bang of the shower door as we realised he was in the shower. The bang of our door when they walked past while we were getting dressed. The bang of my ass as I hit the floor after tripping over a permanent marker.
Needless to say, Friday night was exactly what I needed.
Ashy Ray, Me, and Ally.
I can't describe really how much fun I had that night. All I know, is even though Ash and I weren't really all that keen, I'm so happy Sally dragged us along.
So happy.
Talking my mum into letting me sleep over at Ash's on Friday night, convincing Megan at work that I really was too sick to work the next morning.
Convincing Mitch and Jordan to bring us some alcohol...
Wearing one of Sally's beach shirts as a dress over my bikinis. Getting on stage and winning a 'bootie shaking' contest
.Getting grinded on...not by any males....but by a female.
Having my ass pinched too the point where I lost count. Slipping on a permanent marker and flying into a group of happy dancers. Signing 'lick' across as many chests as I could find, including many of the boys.
Walking outside to find Mitch and Jordan standing under the light post like they said they would. Trying to find their car, only to be told they had stolen a ute to get to the dance for me.
Walking back to meet Lianna with her bags, Mitchell carrying 3 bags which included Passion Pop, Goon Sacks, all that cheap stuff.
Walking past the security guards trying not to make eye contact. Sneaking the bags into our overnight stuff without Ally's mum seeing.
Lianna diving on top of the bags as Ally's mum attempts to 'help' us carry our stuff. The clash of the bottles as she walks towards the car.
The vodka shots at Ash's house. Me sculling half a bottle of red wine because the others wanted to know what it tasted like. Mixing Passion Pop and orange juice into a drink that tasted like SEX.
Hearing a noise outside and sending her puppy out to investigate incase it was a robber wanting our drinks...
Attempting to bake cookies using Passion Pop as a subsitute for all the ingredients. My head feeling so heavy I couldn't get off the floor. Toby humping my face and hooking up with me, while the others laughed because I couldn't stand up. Prank calling anyone we could think of. Wanting to sneak out, but no one wanting to be the 'designated walker home' for us all.
Going to bed in Ash's room, sleeping on the floor in a pile of clothes. Waking up realising we had left a fair bit of evidence down stairs. Walking into the living room, trying to figure out exactly what happened that night. Because as it turns out, apparently we didn't like the way the furniture was set out, so we decided to rearrange the couches.
No one really remembering a whole lot about that night.
Scrubbing so hard to get the 'lick' off our boobs, only to find that it doesn't exactly come off.
Going to Ash's primary school fate, trying to cover out chests as much as possible. Getting sunburnt within the first hour. Walking past the police stance, feeling guilty, my bag still had both full and empty bottles.
Having a craving for water and hot chips, so that's what we spent all our money on.
Getting picked up at 2pm, thinking I could go home and sleep. Instead, being taken straight to Stafford City for grocery shopping. Looking like a whore because I hadn't taken my make up off, with scruffy hair, struggling to walk properly, headache. Trying to avoid work because I clearly hadn't been sick the night before. Worrying because my dad had thrown my bag into the boot, even though he had failed to hear the crash of the bottles against each other.
Getting home later to shower and clean myself. And hide my leftovers.
Ash has the rest at her house.
Apparently, eyes being bigger than your stomach goes for more than just foo
d.Laughing at the fact that no one knew how hungover I was.
Crashing and getting the shits at everyone later that night. Falling asleep later than I would have hoped, and being dragged out of bed early Sunday morning.
Having to work, but being in the best mood once I was there. Being told that the new kid Matt likes me, and realising how obvious that was, and how slow I was. Seeing his face light up when I spoke to him, even though it was usually because I was paying him out.
Being the stereotypical 'young, blonde chick in Home Entertainment' who didn't know what she was doing for the first hour I was there. Because I actually didn't know what the hell I was doing. Everythig had changed since I was last there.
Working out the back with Fatty, organising a party at my house.
Skipping around, signing my contract finally. Getting picked up, accidently mentioning that I had seen Mitch on Friday night. Covering it up by saying it was because he was there to pick up a friend.
Staying up late watching movies.
Going for a 5 hour walk to a park with my beautiful girl. Getting her mum to drop me down the street from my house before my mum got home and realised I'd been gone all day.
Going over Friday night, every time, I remember something different about that night.
Yes, this weekend was exactly what I needed.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Makes me wanna laugh.
It's funny how they think they know me so well.
3 people know the real me. Niether of them are one of those 3 people.
Not even close.
And that's the way I like it.
I can't help but laugh though, at how much they think they know, how 'smart' they are. How they can get one thing right, and suddenly think they know me head to toe.
Please, it took them 3 months to find my belly button peircing. They don't know me at all.
They think they have me figured out. I'm just some stupid teenager succumbing to the pressure and trying desperately to fit in, right? I have no morals or values anymore, because I gave them all up trying to fit in. I don't do these things for me, I do them so that people can see how cool I am. I dramatise my entire life, because I want people to feel sorry for me. And I actually have a great life, and I've had a great up bringing.
That's me in a nutshell.
They're idiots.
I don't 'succumb' to anything. I do what I want, for me, no one else. I do what I think is fun, what I think I should be able to do, what I want to do. I have the will-power to turn things down if I really want to. I don't want people to think that I'm cool, I don't want people to see me as a try-hard. Because I'm not any of that.
I hate people feeling sorry for me. That's why I bottle everything up so much. How can I dramatise my life when I hardly speak to anyone about it? Even then, I leave things out. If anything, I make it sound better than it is. Because I hate people feeling like I need to be looked after, I hate people seeing me depressed, I hate people feeling sorry for me.
They have no right to accuse me of these things, when they know nothing about me.
They know nothing about their own daughter, their only daughter.
It's assumptions, and lucky guesses that are the only reason they know these small facts about me.
My favourite colour. My favourite animal. What school I go to. My middle name. My favourite food.
And that's really only because none of that has changed in about 4 years.
They don't know what I want to do when I leave school, or how I spell my first name.
Or what my favourite subject is. Who my closest friend is, where my favourite place to be is. Or where I usually am on Friday nights. What music I like. If I like any boys. What my favourite musical is. Where I like to read, what I spend all my money on, why I love taking photos, what my biggest phobia is, what my favourite fruit is, what my shoe size is.
They know so little, it makes me smile.
I hate looking at them, and knowing that they don't know me.
Knowing that they look at me, and see right through, or they only see what they want to see.
They talk to me, but they're not really talking to me, because they simply don't want to.
And it's obvious.
I know them so well.
Mums favourite colour is green, Dad's is blue.
Mum likes to take photos of the sky, and the beach, because they calm her down when she's stressed. Dad is obsessed with outer space and astronomy. Mum keeps $20 in the small pocket with her keys as emergency money. Dad, doesn't ever carry any money with him, ever.
Mum's favourite comedy talk-show dude is Stephen Colbert. And her favourite restaurant is Chillie's. Dad loves Better Off Ted, and Thai food.
Mum wears Madame Roches perfume and her favourite chocolate is Cadbury fruit and nut. Dad thankfully doesn't wear perfume, and he has a soft spot for white chocolate.
Mums hair colour is Tahiti, her eyes are green, she's a size 81/2 foot, she thinks she has a big head. Dads eyes are green, he has grey patches popping up here and there which he says 'adds character', his foot size is freakishly large and he has a wisdom tooth that sticks out the side of his gum.
I know everything from why mum has a squished coke can in her bottom draw, to why dad called his car Gus.
And I can look at them, and see exactly what they're thinking. I can predict what they're next step will be, what they're going to say to me next. Whether they're going to come into my room that night, or if they're going to sleep heavily. What time they're going to go to bed, and what time they're going to wake up.
And that's what makes it so easy to sneak around them.
Everything, all of it.
The fact that they don't know me at all, makes it so easy.
The fact that I know them so well, tells me exactly what to do to not get caught.
I know what night is best to sneak out, and what time is the best to leave. What the best time to get back home is.
And I know that they won't ever catch me, because I know them so much more than they know me.
They were still awake when I climbed out my window.
They had no idea.
3 people know the real me. Niether of them are one of those 3 people.
Not even close.
And that's the way I like it.
I can't help but laugh though, at how much they think they know, how 'smart' they are. How they can get one thing right, and suddenly think they know me head to toe.
Please, it took them 3 months to find my belly button peircing. They don't know me at all.
They think they have me figured out. I'm just some stupid teenager succumbing to the pressure and trying desperately to fit in, right? I have no morals or values anymore, because I gave them all up trying to fit in. I don't do these things for me, I do them so that people can see how cool I am. I dramatise my entire life, because I want people to feel sorry for me. And I actually have a great life, and I've had a great up bringing.
That's me in a nutshell.
They're idiots.
I don't 'succumb' to anything. I do what I want, for me, no one else. I do what I think is fun, what I think I should be able to do, what I want to do. I have the will-power to turn things down if I really want to. I don't want people to think that I'm cool, I don't want people to see me as a try-hard. Because I'm not any of that.
I hate people feeling sorry for me. That's why I bottle everything up so much. How can I dramatise my life when I hardly speak to anyone about it? Even then, I leave things out. If anything, I make it sound better than it is. Because I hate people feeling like I need to be looked after, I hate people seeing me depressed, I hate people feeling sorry for me.
They have no right to accuse me of these things, when they know nothing about me.
They know nothing about their own daughter, their only daughter.
It's assumptions, and lucky guesses that are the only reason they know these small facts about me.
My favourite colour. My favourite animal. What school I go to. My middle name. My favourite food.
And that's really only because none of that has changed in about 4 years.
They don't know what I want to do when I leave school, or how I spell my first name.
Or what my favourite subject is. Who my closest friend is, where my favourite place to be is. Or where I usually am on Friday nights. What music I like. If I like any boys. What my favourite musical is. Where I like to read, what I spend all my money on, why I love taking photos, what my biggest phobia is, what my favourite fruit is, what my shoe size is.
They know so little, it makes me smile.
I hate looking at them, and knowing that they don't know me.
Knowing that they look at me, and see right through, or they only see what they want to see.
They talk to me, but they're not really talking to me, because they simply don't want to.
And it's obvious.
I know them so well.
Mums favourite colour is green, Dad's is blue.
Mum likes to take photos of the sky, and the beach, because they calm her down when she's stressed. Dad is obsessed with outer space and astronomy. Mum keeps $20 in the small pocket with her keys as emergency money. Dad, doesn't ever carry any money with him, ever.
Mum's favourite comedy talk-show dude is Stephen Colbert. And her favourite restaurant is Chillie's. Dad loves Better Off Ted, and Thai food.
Mum wears Madame Roches perfume and her favourite chocolate is Cadbury fruit and nut. Dad thankfully doesn't wear perfume, and he has a soft spot for white chocolate.
Mums hair colour is Tahiti, her eyes are green, she's a size 81/2 foot, she thinks she has a big head. Dads eyes are green, he has grey patches popping up here and there which he says 'adds character', his foot size is freakishly large and he has a wisdom tooth that sticks out the side of his gum.
I know everything from why mum has a squished coke can in her bottom draw, to why dad called his car Gus.
And I can look at them, and see exactly what they're thinking. I can predict what they're next step will be, what they're going to say to me next. Whether they're going to come into my room that night, or if they're going to sleep heavily. What time they're going to go to bed, and what time they're going to wake up.
And that's what makes it so easy to sneak around them.
Everything, all of it.
The fact that they don't know me at all, makes it so easy.
The fact that I know them so well, tells me exactly what to do to not get caught.
I know what night is best to sneak out, and what time is the best to leave. What the best time to get back home is.
And I know that they won't ever catch me, because I know them so much more than they know me.
They were still awake when I climbed out my window.
They had no idea.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
FML
Today my teacher asked me in front of the class to "do up your top button..." (which i purposely and rebellingly leave open) and my bottom button (which i had forgoten to do up)...
she then proceeded to say "...you look like popping out of your clothes"
- call me fat much!
Everyone laughed
FML
she then proceeded to say "...you look like popping out of your clothes"
- call me fat much!
Everyone laughed
FML
FML
Today, I was sitting in SOR. Fun, yes I know.
Being bored and tired, I felt the need to yawn, so I did.
My growing back fat forced my bra to pop undone.
FML
Being bored and tired, I felt the need to yawn, so I did.
My growing back fat forced my bra to pop undone.
FML
FML
was sitting on the boys oval today.. bored as HEL... thinking to my self 'this is boring...'
i was suuure that i would remain bored when all of a sudden... who did i see!!!...
no other thaaan... Shannon noel!
now.. me being an idol fan... was very excited
HOWEVER.. that excitement was extinguished when i realised it was only a shannon noel look alike... a padua boy... seriously!...
RUIN MY LIFE
BUT on first glance he turned out to be quite cute from side view. my excitement returned.. *suspense*...
and then.. again.. as fast as it had come, IT WAS GONE!
becausee....
He turned around and he was just an average looking padua boy with a goatiee *sigh*
FML
i was suuure that i would remain bored when all of a sudden... who did i see!!!...
no other thaaan... Shannon noel!
now.. me being an idol fan... was very excited
HOWEVER.. that excitement was extinguished when i realised it was only a shannon noel look alike... a padua boy... seriously!...
RUIN MY LIFE
BUT on first glance he turned out to be quite cute from side view. my excitement returned.. *suspense*...
and then.. again.. as fast as it had come, IT WAS GONE!
becausee....
He turned around and he was just an average looking padua boy with a goatiee *sigh*
FML
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Will You Be There
Everyone's taking control of me,
Seems that the worlds
Got a role for me,
I'm so confused,
Will you show to me
You'll be there for me,
And care enough to bear me.
I don't think I deserve this.
I mean, I know the difference between right and wrong. I know there are some things that are just plain cruel. I know a lot of things about a lot of different people, just simply by looking at them.
Yes, in some ways, I judge.
But that's not how I see it. It's like a vibe I guess. I can just tell whether this person with worth my time, or worth anyones time. If they're going to hurt one of my friends because they're getting too close.
And yes, I choose to step in, to save people hurting. To look out for people.
Well I wanted you, I wanted no one else,
I thought it through, I got you to myself,
You got off everytime you got onto me,
And I got caught up in favourable slavery.
So, I'd say I have a fair idea on karma as well.
How someone can get what's coming to them. How revenge is horrible, but in some cases, it's acceptable if it means taking someone down a peg.
I know whether someone deserves to be treated the way they are, or if they deserve better than that, worse than that even.
I don't know if I'm making sense here.
No, it didn't matter what I tried,
It's just a little hard to leave when you're going down on me,
I guess I stuck around
So I could watch us fight for all the wrong reasons.
I know myself pretty well sometimes. I have a basic idea on who I am as a person, the kind of personality I have. Why I have the friends that I have, why they stick around me. I know what I need to change about myself, and what is fine just the way it is.
I don't intentionally hurt anyone, in fact, I spend every second on every day making sure I don't hurt anyone. I do what I know to be right, for myself, and for others.
That's why I know I don't deserve this.
I don't deserve to be treated like this, to be made to feel like everything is always my fault. To be used, over and over and over again.
I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing,
Just prayed to a God that I don't believe in.
I could so easily turn this back around. Be the one to hurt you.
What have I ever done to you apart from be here? I'm here to listen to you, I'm your little punching bag when you're in a bad mood. I try to help you when you ask. I stay up into hours of the morning I never knew existed, just because you need to talk. I ignore you when you ask me to, even though you get angry at me for not talking. I'm always the first to say something, or to smile. And I still don't 'put enough effort in'. Umm, put enough effort into what exactly?
I was crying when I met you,
Now I'm trying to forget you.
I have so much I could hate you over. So many things I don't let get to me, because it hurts just too much.
I don't want to hate you. I want to be over you already. It won't stop.
I can't not want to be with you. There are times when I want nothing to do with you, when everything just becomes too much and I want it to stop. When I turn everything off, and ignore you for as long as I possibly can.
Turns out, that's only around 4 or so hours.
Why? Because I remember everything I love about. Your smile, your eyes, the way you make me feel.
That's why I can't get over you, no matter how hard I try.
Despite the fact that you have hurt me more times than you have made me feel happy.
I'm over the wall,
Over the hill,
Over at your place,
I'm over the safeties,
Over the phone calls,
Over the rage,
What a mistake.
I want the pain to stop.
But I don't want to take the steps to do that.
Seems that the worlds
Got a role for me,
I'm so confused,
Will you show to me
You'll be there for me,
And care enough to bear me.
I don't think I deserve this.
I mean, I know the difference between right and wrong. I know there are some things that are just plain cruel. I know a lot of things about a lot of different people, just simply by looking at them.
Yes, in some ways, I judge.
But that's not how I see it. It's like a vibe I guess. I can just tell whether this person with worth my time, or worth anyones time. If they're going to hurt one of my friends because they're getting too close.
And yes, I choose to step in, to save people hurting. To look out for people.
Well I wanted you, I wanted no one else,
I thought it through, I got you to myself,
You got off everytime you got onto me,
And I got caught up in favourable slavery.
So, I'd say I have a fair idea on karma as well.
How someone can get what's coming to them. How revenge is horrible, but in some cases, it's acceptable if it means taking someone down a peg.
I know whether someone deserves to be treated the way they are, or if they deserve better than that, worse than that even.
I don't know if I'm making sense here.
No, it didn't matter what I tried,
It's just a little hard to leave when you're going down on me,
I guess I stuck around
So I could watch us fight for all the wrong reasons.
I know myself pretty well sometimes. I have a basic idea on who I am as a person, the kind of personality I have. Why I have the friends that I have, why they stick around me. I know what I need to change about myself, and what is fine just the way it is.
I don't intentionally hurt anyone, in fact, I spend every second on every day making sure I don't hurt anyone. I do what I know to be right, for myself, and for others.
That's why I know I don't deserve this.
I don't deserve to be treated like this, to be made to feel like everything is always my fault. To be used, over and over and over again.
I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing,
Just prayed to a God that I don't believe in.
I could so easily turn this back around. Be the one to hurt you.
What have I ever done to you apart from be here? I'm here to listen to you, I'm your little punching bag when you're in a bad mood. I try to help you when you ask. I stay up into hours of the morning I never knew existed, just because you need to talk. I ignore you when you ask me to, even though you get angry at me for not talking. I'm always the first to say something, or to smile. And I still don't 'put enough effort in'. Umm, put enough effort into what exactly?
I was crying when I met you,
Now I'm trying to forget you.
I have so much I could hate you over. So many things I don't let get to me, because it hurts just too much.
I don't want to hate you. I want to be over you already. It won't stop.
I can't not want to be with you. There are times when I want nothing to do with you, when everything just becomes too much and I want it to stop. When I turn everything off, and ignore you for as long as I possibly can.
Turns out, that's only around 4 or so hours.
Why? Because I remember everything I love about. Your smile, your eyes, the way you make me feel.
That's why I can't get over you, no matter how hard I try.
Despite the fact that you have hurt me more times than you have made me feel happy.
I'm over the wall,
Over the hill,
Over at your place,
I'm over the safeties,
Over the phone calls,
Over the rage,
What a mistake.
I want the pain to stop.
But I don't want to take the steps to do that.
I can take a hint.
Honestly.
Yeah, I would have preferred it if you had just talked to me or something. But I guess this works just as well, aye?
I've been blockkkkkkked.
Yeah, I would have preferred it if you had just talked to me or something. But I guess this works just as well, aye?
I've been blockkkkkkked.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Fading.
As teenagers, there comes a point when one has to really look at themselves, and decide who they are, and who they want to be.
Where they are, and where they want to go.
Everyone has dreams, and ambitions, and yeah, we all have a pretty fair idea about the kind of person we are, and all that jazz.
But have we wever really looked?
Have you ever looked at yourself the way someone else would, a friend, a stranger meeting you for the first time?
Have you ever thought about the kind of first impression that you're giving out? Or whether the things that you say really come out the way they sound in your head?
What about if someone starts to act differently around you. Have you ever thought that maybe it was you that changed, not the other person?
Cliche, maybe. But have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?
I did, not long ago. I took a good hard look at myself in the mirror. I was trying to figure myself out. Who am I, really?
I'm not smart. I'm not popular. I'm not a particularly hard worker. I'm not skinny. I'm not sporty. I'm not ambitious. I'm not a stunner. I sometimes take things too far. I'm not a very family-orientated person. I'm not good with crowds. I need to be constantly reassured that my friends like me. I have anxiety issues when I'm alone. I'm scared of falling asleep sometimes. I'm insecure about my apprearance. I'm not confident. I don't have leadership qualities. I'm scared that if I don't do exactly what people want, then I'll lose them as 'friends'. I question my whole purpose. I need people to like me. I can't stay in a relationship. I push people away by holding them too close. I change the way I look so people will notice me.
I looked so hard at myself, and I didn't see anything.
I'm empty.
I'm fading.
Where they are, and where they want to go.
Everyone has dreams, and ambitions, and yeah, we all have a pretty fair idea about the kind of person we are, and all that jazz.
But have we wever really looked?
Have you ever looked at yourself the way someone else would, a friend, a stranger meeting you for the first time?
Have you ever thought about the kind of first impression that you're giving out? Or whether the things that you say really come out the way they sound in your head?
What about if someone starts to act differently around you. Have you ever thought that maybe it was you that changed, not the other person?
Cliche, maybe. But have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?
I did, not long ago. I took a good hard look at myself in the mirror. I was trying to figure myself out. Who am I, really?
I'm not smart. I'm not popular. I'm not a particularly hard worker. I'm not skinny. I'm not sporty. I'm not ambitious. I'm not a stunner. I sometimes take things too far. I'm not a very family-orientated person. I'm not good with crowds. I need to be constantly reassured that my friends like me. I have anxiety issues when I'm alone. I'm scared of falling asleep sometimes. I'm insecure about my apprearance. I'm not confident. I don't have leadership qualities. I'm scared that if I don't do exactly what people want, then I'll lose them as 'friends'. I question my whole purpose. I need people to like me. I can't stay in a relationship. I push people away by holding them too close. I change the way I look so people will notice me.
I looked so hard at myself, and I didn't see anything.
I'm empty.
I'm fading.
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