Euphoria

And it's so totally late, but it fits better today than it does 16 days ago.

Today is a month. It doesn't feel like it...but it is. I've done things I've promised myself I wouldn't do, I've done things that I can't regret, and I've done things that make me feel amazing...in a harmless way. I see things differently now, I see things from so many different planes that it's not even funny anymore. Sex is no longer just sex, but has this mesh of different meanings and trials that you can't even feel, but are breached every time...But that's what's so much fun about it: it's almost impossible to fail.

It feels amazing to be typing this...but I'm tired, so I'm out.

-I can still feel your soft caress
Scarlet Bloodmoon

And It Seems Even More I'm Always in Her Shadow

I don't know where this started or why I thought about it, but as I was passing SanTan Junior High this afternoon, I realized that out of my four exes, three of them I'm sure have liked this girl before or after dating me. I mean, the first one makes sense...he knew her first. He was closer to her, but was forced to get over her when she turned him down. The second one was totally obvious. He was like a brother to her...and she was just looking for fun. He so would. Third one...I don't know. He's just him that way...It wasn't surprising, it wasn't shocking, it was almost expected. It was...systematic in a twisted way.

I used to look up to her. I used to want to be as free and as capable as she was. After awhile, I realized that I was looking for the wrong things, that I would never be someone like her. It just wasn't my style to become someone else, a clone. After time, I stopped wanting to be like her, stopped liking how she changed entirely. But that's entirely not the point! For most of my teenage years, I wondered just how much I was like her and how much people associated me with her. Well, all of that doesn't matter anymore, none of that really applies anymore. I'm not her, I am totally my own person. I totally hate how it took me so long and so many people to realize it.

-That's it. I'm done.
Scarlet Bloodmoon

Pyromania

Maybe it's not just combustion and physical fire that makes me happy and excited. I live for conflict. I've said that many times before, but really, I've never seen me goad and prod for conflict before. Wednesday, Socratic seminar. Totally went in unprepared, half the class apathetic and tired. I managed to play on religious, ethnic, and ethic points that most people would rather avoid. I walked out of that class happy. I was ecstatic that I managed to ruffle some feathers and invoke some emotion. I love getting responses from people. I've learned anger is the easiest one to invoke. You know, it was interesting. I got to the point where I would glance occasionally to the opposite side of the room to gauge the reactions of three people across the huge circle from me, but I mostly left my attention to the people I thought as easy targets: people who would be quick to anger, quick to respond.

I love fire. I love the large amount of spite and anger, the seductive and destructive curve of a flame, the passion and lust in a moment, the spontaneity of life, the energy-intensive and fast-paced informality, the colorblind destruction and unpredictability, I love fire.

I love the feeling of water against my skin. I love that hectic storm, the gentle and soft waters from a controlled source, the sluggish drag of the layers of it resisting my fingertips, the perfect way it molds to my body. I've always loved the water. I've always felt natural in it. I could never swim competitively because it would take away from the dedication and love I devoted to the water every time I was in it. I love the water.

Horoscopically, (so not a word, but I like it) I am earth. I nurture, I allow things to grow, I am the solid foundation upon which others start. I feel happy when others are happy, accomplished when someone else accomplishes something. I derive my happiness from the happiness of others, from knowing that I caused them a little bit of happiness. I need to please; it is how I know I've been doing well.

Really, the only thing I don't have, is the wind. I love the feel of it, I love feeling powerless under it, but I can't claim it, I can't hold it or worship it like I do fire or water. I can't embody it like I do earth. It is my missing piece.

-I Can't Imagine A More Perfect...
Scarlet Bloodmoon

Reincarnation

July was very fun. I totally changed so much in Europe. Classes are fun, except for I'm stuck in PE and totally unwilling to lose any of my other classes to see if I can get into dance instead. BUT! Apparently, there is a 4th hour Stats class which makes me wonder why I'm not in Calc BC along with Stats...What?

So, I officially listen to any kind of music. ANYTHING. I used to be "Anything but rap and country." Nope. Not anymore. Now I'm wondering who is changing me. Well, I guess my brothers have a huge part in this...what with all the rap they listen to.

Eh. I feel this is going to be a really short post. Nothing really new happening...Definitely want to play the piano, but the keyboard is in Jeremy's room and I hate going in there, my fingerboard on my violin collapsed again. I could pick up the clarinet or the trumpet, but eh, not my style.

Random closing thought: Reincarnation was my password, and the hint was something like: "I can only hope that someday, it will happen." It did.

-"In perfect stillness, frankly, I've only found sorrow."
Scarlet Bloodmoon

This is my gift to you

Today was pure torture. My first day back to school and imagine my delight to find that Cale has two of my classes. Well, I guess that comment was a bit sarcastic. It's his birthday today. I didn't acknowledge it the whole entire day, choosing rather to quietly seethe and wonder about other things. I started and ended this epic battle in my mind, one where I fought out whether I was going to acknowledge the day with some words. In the end, I chose not to. In the end, I decided that my present to him would be to continue to act as I had, to completely pretend that I don't remember all of the haunting things that have happened. I feel justified in it, but slightly disgusted at myself for being so...horrible.

I can suppose it's getting a little better...He said one thing to me today. Sitting in Stats, we were all separately working on a math problem, and while I desperately wanted to work with him and the three others around him (as they are fairly interesting and creative people who could add to the analysis), I sufficed to suck up the desire and pound through the math. He turned around to me and made a programming joke. I was desperately surprised, gleeful and a bit pleased, but still, I know I'm just settling for my small victories again.

Over the summer, while I was in Europe, I thrived for the conversation I would be having with friends. James and I talked a whole ton...about anything and everything. He told me to stop settling for my small victories and to aim for higher achievements. I have a feeling my small victories won't feel quite the same anymore...

The picture reads: "After we broke up you asked me to stop writing to you. I write about you to anyone who'd listen. I still love you, all of me." I think it's kind of fitting...that even after this large amount of bubbling of self-doubt and disgust, I still think of writing about him, of telling complete strangers about him, to engage anyone in some conversation about him. I wonder, truly do, if he lost his friends.

I Lost Myself

So, from midnight till 4 in the morning, I was out clubbing. Two people from my Uncle's company/office invited Jeremy and I out for the night and Jeremy being the wild one who always needs to try something, accepted. I was included and hell, I went. For days now, I was done being proper, done with being so very pure. So, midnight, we hit a Cuban themed discotheque (as they are called) and a group of seven of us danced for maybe two hours. At first, it was a little awkward. The grown ups danced while three of us between the ages of 15 and 17 moved lightly. Later on, emboldened, I joined in. Jeremy was pretty much resistant the whole night so we just let him be. One of the people from work coerced me into dancing when salsa songs started playing. Finally, I let in, knowing that I'd probably never see anyone of those people again. Afterwards, we left to hop to a new place. We stopped by a coffeeshop and four of us started passing a joint around. It felt very different...kind of suffocating. I have to admit: taking plenty of small drags from the joint, I feel no different. Jeremy instantly got sick, like really tired and he threw up a bit. We decided he had too much and took him home. The rest of us went back to the first disco and enjoyed our time. I was really bold! This guy (total stranger) came up to me and smiled. I smiled back and in a matter of minutes (since everyone was doing some variation of the salsa), we were dancing. Like pressed together dancing. Like halfway through the dance, another came up to me, pulled his arms around me and I entertained that one for a little while. They left, work people came back from dropping off Jeremy, and after a bit, I was dancing with the same work person. At 4, the kicked us out. I had spent the better part of four hours dancing.

The thing is, I moved to everything. The amounts of techno they played, the rap, the salsa, the Bob Marley after we had come back from smoking a joint, anything and everything. The only thing I didn't do was dance with the 15 year old boy there. I kind of wanted to, but eh. Every little part of me was lost to this newer addition: an adventurous spirit, a careless and amused being. Cale got really mad at me once for saying I gave up on it all, but maybe this time, I really did. Maybe, I gave up on keeping appearances, on being pure or perfect or proper.

It kind of hurts to take deep breaths...and if I try hard enough, I can pull up a breath that tastes like marijuana. I'm so done writing. Night!

Eh.

More general post being written at my other blog. Mr. Compartner, if you want, go check it out.