So, this entire journal is just me spewing my self-induced misery all over the place to complete internet strangers...yeah. First off, my mom is a bitch. Overstatement? I don't think so. She still drags my sister and I to church, so we decided to make some not-so-subtle statements. When everybody else is up and singing and praisin' the lord, we remain sitting, slumping in our chairs and texting nonchalantly. During the sermon we sit there in a daze or pretend to be falling asleep, or we whisper amongst ourselves and giggle.
For my World Lit class I was told to write fifteen things about myself. They could be anything. We weren't given any limitations or concrete guidelines, except that some of them had to be deep and revealing. This is what I wrote.
1) My only real voice exists on paper; I'm more complete than ever when I'm writing.
2) I refuse to eat the outer edges of any flavor of Pop Tarts.
3) I have this insane idea that one day I can save the world with nothing but words.
My first week of school is done already. I can already tell that senior year is gonna fly by even faster than junior year. Before I get into any usual shit, does anybody watch that MTV show Made? Because one of the dudes from the show, one of the "life coaches" or whatever, Jeff Yalden, is coming to our school to speak to us tomorrow. He's some big-shot motivational speaker who apparently reaches teens in a deep and profound way. I cracked up because in his video greeting our school, he's all, "I'm cool, I'm edgy, I tow the line."
I caught wind of a disturbing statistic about abusive relationships the other day. Supposedly abuse is twice as likely to occur in lesbian relationships than heterosexual ones. I'm always wary whenever statistics like that are presented to me because it's so easy to misrepresent the numbers and such. If that's true, and I remain highly skeptical, then I don't understand how. Women as a whole tend to be less aggressive. I dunno.
My summer is drawing to a close. I have exactly eight days to enjoy it, and what do I do? I get myself grounded. Mind you, I've only been grounded one other time in my life, only because for whatever reason my mom is not the punishing type. I went out with Brittany Thursday evening. I was told to be back home by 11:30 at the very latest. I didn't come home until three in the morning.
Nobody's posting anything. I guess I will, even though I just wrote a journal a couple days ago. Hooray for hogging the journal section! So I registered for school today, and it was weird. It was weird because this is my last year as a high school student and things are gonna change a lot. I don't know how I feel about anything and it's just...weird. They decided to put me in P.E first hour despite my protests. What the fuck. I'm a zombie in the morning and they expect me to run and shit. They expected me to do calculus first thing in the morning last year and now this. God damn it.
I have her pinned against the wall. My arms become a cage. She refuses to look me in the face, her eyes stubbornly focusing on the ground beside me. We are the same height but here she is so small, shrinking into the bricks. I'm not sure what this is. Am I threatening her? Is this an act of intimidation? Desperation? If she tried to escape would I...No. Never.
I just got home half an hour ago from Colorado and I'm pretty tired, so this will be brief. Two days ago we spent most of the day rafting, which was definitely one of the highlights of the trip. We picked the calmest route, recommended for beginners, and it was incredible. The view, the teamwork, the hilarious guide, everything. There's that sense of accomplishment when you make it over a rough patch of rocks and strong currents that is so new to me, even if it is just a beginner's obstacle.
Day three of my vacation began with a drive to the secluded mining town of Ashcroft, which was once booming in the 1870's thanks to a short supply of silver. The town went bust as quickly as it blossomed and all that remains are a few hollowed-out cabins storing artifacts like saddles, spoons, bottles, and the like. Branching out of Ashcroft's skeleton are several hiking trails. We picked one and followed it for an hour, marveling at the murmuring streams and the ashy white aspens, the overpopulation of adorable ground squirrels and the clearings dotted with wildflowers.
A third of our thirteen-hour drive to Aspen was totally unremarkable; Missouri offered nothing that we haven't seen in Illinois, just corn fields and pastures suffering from the massive drought. Kansas supposedly is completely flat and also boring. I'd say it's pretty, not because it contains anything spectacular, but because it's simple. Simplicity is beautiful to me. Miles and miles of wheat, sorghum, and bean fields, interrupted by unusually numerous billboards protesting abortion.
It's 8 in the morning here and I should really be sleeping, because at eleven we leave for Colorado. The drive is thirteen hours long. We'll be staying in a hotel in Kansas tonight, then we'll head to Aspen. Last night I went over to Brittany's house and played video games for six hours and I didn't get back home until 2:30. Way later than I planned, but slaying zombies with a chainsaw is just so damn fun. Nothing is better than saving your crush from a hoard of the infected at one in the morning.
Judd was arrested the other day for shoplifting. Some kid watched him take a phone cover and reported him. Ay caramba. A couple of my friends do shoplift occasionally, but I never imagined one of them would actually get caught. Since he was so cooperative the cop decided to take it off his record and he'll have to appear in court in a few days. The ticket is 125 dollars. He's lucky the cop was so nice because a lot of the cops around here are douchebags. I can't really say I feel sorry for him; if he's willing to take the risk he should be willing to face any possible consequences.
There are lots of things that I don't even pretend to understand. One of those is gender, or at least, all of the principles and ideas that surround gender. There is a theory that gender is simply a convenient set of guidelines created by society based on your sex. A father tells his little son to stop crying because only girls cry. A mother tells her daughter to come inside and clean off the grime of the day because only boys play in the mud.
I just got my car back from the body shop today. After waiting for two months, it's finally been fixed. So today, while my mom had a friend over, I decided to treat myself to a nice drive through the country. I selected one of my favorite albums from my collection, Queens of the Stone Age's Songs for the Deaf, and backed out of my garage. I completely forgot about my mom's friend's car sitting in the driveway and I scraped the side of it, knocking off my side mirror and leaving paint streaks on her car doors. Shitshitshitshitshit.
I just got home from Warped Tour. Basically it's just a festival of a ton of diverse bands, ranging from ska to reggae to hip hop to metal. You may recognize some of the headliners: Rise Against, New Found Glory, All Time Low, The Used, etc. My face is burned and my legs feel like rubber from walking around all day. But that's totally okay. Because I went with Brittany.