Monday, May 19, 2008

   .....Rant.
I feel as if everyone is moving on without me.
Like I'm stuck in one place, while everyone else is surging forward.
No, worse...i'm walking backwards.

In 8th grade I was a gossip queen who loved boys to death and wore pink...alot.

In 9th grade (this year) I'm more of the: I don't care about your secrets, boys are overrated, pink is the color of MURDER type.

Angst? I think not. More of what my friends were like in 8th grade.

This year...everyone is going girl on me. I was hated in 8th grade for being a 'girl' and so, i guess subconciously, i morphed myself into what they used to be: A tomboy.

My girlfriend is the only one who's stayed a constant. She's always been a completely honest (slightly bitchy), not a tomboy but not a girly girl and she still is. She's Faben. I guess that's why I like her...

I was under the impression that I just went through my boy stage wayy before everyone else and therefore, got over it. I figured that everyone else will soon be brought down to my level and all I have to do...is wait.

...obviously, I was wrong.

A picture slammed me down to earth. A picture of one of my best friends, or...i used to consider her a best friend...

she looked so different.

...she looked...like a model.

She was gorgeous and I was used to seeing one of those normal, awkward type of girls with slightly bushy eyebrows and blemishes.

Her picture was...cold. Hard.

...her eyebrows were done.

My little happy go-lucky, everything is finally going good for me train ride lurched to a stop and I stared at the picture for five minutes. I searched for even a tiny glimpse of the girl who went to school with me.

but, she was gone. No longer was she an awkward girl, with tangled hair. She was...i mean, she looked...perfect.

And as I stare down at myself, I feel my heart drop into my stomach. I want to cry, (like I did last year so much,) but I gave up my tears to be like them...like my friends. The tears are burning in the back of my eyes and I refuse to let them drop.

My mind is racing with the thoughts...

am I living a dream? do i even know what's going on with my own life?

I've become Kiya to please my friends and I willingly lost sight of who I was born. Zakiyyah is gone now, and I'm scared that she's been murdered. I can feel the blood staining my, black painted, fingernails and I want to scream. I want to throw the computer at the wall, appalled at what I see.

But I sit. And I stare. I don't move and I don't speak. I let my fingers fly across the keyboard as the tears burn in back of my eyes my heart races and I pray, to a god that a year ago I believed in, that this is all a dream.

That the girls and boys I knew are still there and that I'm just making something out of nothing.

My heart is steady now. My eyes no longer burn. And although my hands shake, I know that I'll be fine.

I was...rather pathetic, when I think about it.

I changed my whole self for people I only knew for less than a year. I dived without a floaty into shark infested waters for the very people who used to laugh at me behind my back.

The people I call my best friends were only that AFTER i changed myself.

And...I can't bring myself to hate them. I can't bring myself to care. Because, Kiya is always happy and although she has her own problems she'll push them down, down, down, into the bottom of her mind and draw up sympathy. She'll listen to your advice and throw her whole self into making you feel better. She'll laugh at your jokes, when they're not funny at all. She'll laugh at herself if it keeps some of the embarressment away! Kiya is happy go-lucky. A girl, who has family issues up to her eyeballs and is drowning in self-loathing. A girl, who no matter what happens, will never ever tell her best friend that she looks ugly in that dress. Kiya is a man-made robot. She's...just good enough that she seems normal. She's made of ice and ash and theres no flame. On the outside, she's burning, her friends call her the 'human-heater', she skin is always warm but she feels cold. Her mind is constantly racing with the 'what ifs' and she's surviving.

Zakiyyah would have cared. She would have fought with herself and her friends, not caring if people like her, not caring if what she says makes them angry.

EVEN NOW I'M HOPING AND PRAYING THAT FABEN NEVER SEES THIS ENTRY, BECAUSE I KNOW SHE'LL LABEL ME A NADIA AND I COULD NEVER. ever be able to live with myself if Faben hated me.

I'm no longer Zakiyyah.

My heart beat is no longer racing and the shock of the slam to earth had brought Zakiyyah out for just a few small moments. My mind is twisting. Kiya...is back.

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Saturday, May 17, 2008

   *inhaleeee*
My father is in Rhode Island for the weekend.

Yay.
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Wednesday, May 14, 2008

   Gym&Lunch.
My day was hilarioussss. haha.

In gym we had to do fitness training and so we had to split up into partners. One of the partners had to lay on her back on a mat and the other partner had to stand in front of them and then they had to pass a medicine ball back and forth. Faben was my partner and it was HILARIOUS. We kept saying: "Oh. You're bottoming now! Oh lookie! I'm topping you!"
anyways...so Faben kept going down in a situp before I handed her the medicine ball back so I was like: "You're the worst bottomer EVER!" and so it went on. lol.

then in Lunch we had quite a few more dirty jokes going around.

1. Faben has to top, she sucks when she bottoms. (yes, that is suppose to mean two different things. XD)
2. Olivia's thigh is in the way of my ass.
(because I went to go slide of the bench and I was stopped because of her thigh.)
3. Backing it all up on Olivia.
(because I started pushing my butt onto Olivia's thigh to get her to move.)

Anyways...in conclusion....

All my friends are perverts. ^^

what's new with everyone else??
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Wednesday, May 7, 2008

   Caramelldansen!!
<333333

LOVE. i know, i know. I'm super late in the who fad thing but to be honest, when the fad was at it's breaking point i thought it was pretty retarded. Now...I'm pretty much obsessed.

Faben got me interested in it. Now she won't stop talking about J-music. ^^

I don't mind, though.
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Sunday, May 4, 2008

1973.
I guess I'll miss you if you jumped off that cliff...but maybe not.

I guess if you rammed that blade through your veins I'd feel a sense of lost...but then again...I won't know unless you try...

If you were to flat line in the hospital room I'd probably cry...I mean...you still owe me those thirty dollars.

I'm a vicious person, I know. Heartless? Maybe.

____________________________________________

"I will call you up everyday Saturday night
And we both stayed out 'til the morning light
And we sang, "Here we go again"
And though time goes by
I will always be
In a club with you
In 1973
Singing "Here we go again" "
-James Blunt



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Friday, May 2, 2008

   I'm in the writing mood today....
(FATHER)

Dad.
I wonder if you ever hear what you talk about.
Spending hours and hours preaching on stuff that don't make sense.
I listen but I can't hear what you're saying
cuz I'm blocking it out,
just like I blocked out those words
when ya called momma fat and I take after her, daddy.
Am I fat too?

I block out those times you're beating my baby brother
ears plugged up with stubby fingers,
humming nursery rhymnes that you never recited to me.
Daddy, do you know who I am?
Your daughter, you're flesh and blood, naw, Daddy.

Cuz I'm still here
and you're lookin' over there
tryin' find excuses for the reasons why I haven't seen you in years.
Yeah, your face is here and the body's connected...
but where's my daddy?

Harold Simmons must have died long ago,
leaving Walid in his place,
carrying with him the religion and prejudices which you used to hate
and Daddy, when I cry you don't even care...

Just because I'm not preaching Muhammad's words don't mean I don't have a mind.
I'm reaching behind for the bullets and the gun,
holding with me the words to my chest that stung,
all those years ago but now I'm chill...
Now those words are my protection,
the words I can hide behind.

Cuz Daddy...
I wonder when you'll realize that I'm waiting for you to
Pull me out the gutter and-
hug me.

Waiting for the man I knew held me on his knee and read to me,
who took me driving at 2am to help me sleep.
I'm wondering where he's gone,
and I'm praying for your death,
praying to a god that, because of you, I no longer have faith in.

Cuz, Daddy you might call yourself my dad,
and you might discipline me like my poppa,
but, Daddy...
I want my father.

_____________________________________________

Yeah, I'd never give to my dad. He's probably kill me.
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   Prompt Word: FEAR.
Sometimes, I'll wake up in the middle of the night, chilly tears clinging to my eyelashes. The horrors of my nightmares echoing through my mind. I'll sit and shiver, stiff and straight as a board, my breath coming steadily. I don't dare curl up, wrap my arms around my legs, for fear of falling back asleep and being found in that position.
My mind always starts to drift, and I'm too tired to push down the emotions I feel rising in my chest. I shut my eyes, swollen and stiff from the dried tears, and try to sleep. Unwilling to admit I was affected my imagination. Unwilling to accept that I'm afraid.

-/Kiya
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   Prompt Word: DETERMINATION.
When Carl left the door wide open as he fled to the railroad tracks I was stunned. My mind was frozen and only one thing floated through my concious: Flies are gonna get in.
It was the summer of 1975 when he gave up on us, and I knew it was breaking his heart as much as our. I held baby stacey to my chest and stumbled into the living room, sinking into the worn cushions of the couch. Nicky came into the room soon after, a blanket clutched in his closed fist and he stared at me through liquidy blue eyes.
Carl was only seventeen and he couldn't handle the responsibility.
I sat there, silently, letting the reality of the situation sink in. Only fourteen, no job and only 50 cents in my pocket. Two kids to take care of and no one to lean on for help. A wave of fury rose up in me and I tightened my hold on my baby sister. Carl left us. It finally broke through and with it, intense anger. How dare he?! I was seething as I stood, setting Stacey down in the makeshift crib beside me.
Mechanically, I started to run the bath water and from the corner of my eye I glimpsed one of Nicky's toy trucks.
My anger disappeared and sorrow took it's place. How was I going to do this? I fell back on my heels in despair. My hands rested in my lap and I shook my blonde hair out of my face.
Stacey started crying and I shook myself from my depressed state. I stood, and walked out to pick her up. I'll never leave them alone.

-/Kiya

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Tuesday, April 29, 2008

   Lookie Here.....
Zachary Simons is a complete and utter asshole. I mean, I was just minding my own business when he came out of no where and pushed me down the stairs. That's not even the bad part! Later on, when I went to go tell the principal about Simons' (I call him by his last name) actions she stated that I was imagining things and needed to go lie down. "Maybe you bumped your head on the way down", was what she said. The nerve of that woman!
So, I went to the sick room and with my luck, guess who was laying down on the nurse-bed? Zachary Simons, himself. Automatically, I turned to leave but he called out for me to stop. He called me Nora, which in itself was odd because only my close friends call me that, but his tone is what made me stop. He sounded almost...apologetic. So, I turned around and faced him, being the gracious and merciful person I am, ready to forgive and forget all his mistakes. He smirked at me and drew his dark red lips back to say:
"Your fly is down."
_________________________________________________
An small little snippet of a short story i MIGHT start writing soon. Tell me what you think! ^^
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Saturday, April 26, 2008

So many questionsss.
Peoples wrote questions during their comments and I'm lazy. So I'm writing the answers here.

1. Yes, I wear glasses, I'm pretty much blind.

2. New frames and new lenses. Yes, my eyesight is DYING.

3. My dad doesn't work, Clari. No income whatsoever. :D

4. Global = Social Studies Class.

Yay!
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