Tuesday, February 2, 2010

I am pissed. So very pissed.
Maybe it's just because I want to be right and want everyone to agree that I'm right because I'm a prideful bitch like that, but I honestly cannot believe anyone would be so stupid and/or cynical.

This kid in my class actually called me a hypocrite because I'm pro-life and I eat meat. He said that if life was so precious to "my type of people" then how could we kill perfectly innocent animals just to have something to eat?
When I responded that killing an animal was different than killing a developing human baby, he said, no, it wasn't. Can you fucking believe that?
He actually went so far as to say that humans and animals were the same thing. Don't get me wrong, I know scientifically humans are animals, but emotionally and philosophically, we're different. We have souls! We have higher intellect! We (well, some of us don't) don't rely solely on our instincts!
When I tried to tell him this, he said he didn't believe in souls and then he went into the whole Darwin/Evolution theory. '-__-
Ugh.
Okay, for one thing, the evolution theory is simply a theory--a highly probable theory, but a theory, nonetheless.
For another thing, it has absolutely nothing to do with abortion or animal rights. I don't see anybody trying to shoot and eat monkeys or apes or orangutans, which are the specious most closely related to humans. (Well, not anybody in this country anyway.)

And, honestly, it's not just the animal thing, it's the stupidity of the subject. I found out soon after the discussion began that I was basically the only pro-life person in the whole class, and that was really depressing to me.
Now, you all know I'm religious, so naturally I hate abortion with a passion. HATE IT, HATE IT, HATE IT, HATE IT.
And it's not just because I'm religious either, it's because abortion is murder, plain and simple. A fetus is not a thing, it's a baby, and if you cut that up, you're cutting up a person.
Sure, there might be reasons for having an abortion, but that does not make it any less of a murder. At the very least, it reduces the act to man slaughter, and that's not much better.

And, besides that, if a fetus is not a baby, then the women in question is not pregnant.

*sigh* I'm sorry, I don't mean to be this angry, I just am.
I wish people could understand. I wish I wasn't practically the only religious kid in the whole damn school.
Now then. On to lighter topics.

Oh, no, wait, there are none.

Yeah, sorry, guys, I got nothing. /:

Sorry if I offended anyone.
ily
~Belinda
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Saturday, January 30, 2010

I'm sleepy but I don't wanna go to sleep yet. :P

Played Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 for like 4 hours. Now I feel really dizzy. Wheeeeeeeee!

Went out to Taco Bell today with my brothers and dad. My mom and sisters are visiting my aunt in West Virginia so it's just been me, my brothers, and my dad this whole weekend. It's nice. Almost scary quiet without my sisters screaming at each other constantly.


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Friday, January 29, 2010

Strange and Extraordinary People
Oh, this bumpy surface.
This surface I scratched raw.
As she sheds her skin, like snowflakes the teardrops fall.
She says "Oh, this is not what I wanted.
Not what I wanted at all."

He said to settle for less.
He said, forgive and forget.
But I can only ever forgive when I can forget,
And she's the one thing about this town I'll always remember.
She walked away and waved goodbye as I watched her out of the corner of my eye.
Didn't even look back. She didn't even look back.

Oh, this bumpy surface.
The surface I scratched raw.
As she sheds her skin, like snowflakes the teardrops fall.
And this is not what I wanted.
Not what I wanted at all.

First saw her on the stage singing cabaret.
Danced her way into the blinding light.
Threw an arm around me afterwords, singing
"Yes, darling, it's a strange and extraordinary place to work, but we are strange and extraordinary people."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And that's what you get when you combine my peculiar thought process with a little musical film known as Cabaret.
It's kind of like the original Moulin Rouge only not as quirky.
Speaking of which, I've been dying to see Moulin Rouge again for about 3 months now. Argh.
~Belinda
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Thursday, January 28, 2010

''''-___- Damn it.
I'm supposed to be going out right now--hell, I AM supposed to be out right now. Ma said she was going to take me to the library as soon as she dropped Robert off. She has yet to return.

ARRRRRRRRRRGH! I'm annoyed. All I want to do is go out and enjoy my three-day weekend like the nerdy kid I am, and I can't. Things were going so well today too. *sigh* Oh well.

I really need to learn how to drive. Excuse the language, but this is getting really fucking annoying to have to wait to be driven everywhere.
Ordinarily, I'd just walk to the library, but I've been sick all week and it's too cold out to even walk around the block right now.

I'm gonna go kill a bitch now.
Bye.
~Belinda
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Wednesday, January 27, 2010

   Today is one of those days where nothing ever goes right.
;~; I'm about to cry.

Today is the last day of intro to creative writing. It's my favorite class. I'll be taking advanced creative writing come Monday for second semester, but my best friend in the class, Heather, isn't going to be there.

I got to be honest. I really don't like making new friends. Especially on days like this.
When I'm this depressed, my people skills are shitacular. I feel like I'm about to fall apart at any second.
;~;

I have nothing to say, but I can't stop typing. I can't go back to doing nothing. I can't just sit there while everyone else talks and laughs like everything's okay.

I need to rest. I need to recover. I need...
I NEED A HUG!!!!!!!!!! >0<

*sigh* Tea. A cup of tea--no, a vat of tea would be positively God-sent right now.
My throat hurts. My head aches. My palms sweat. My eyes burn.
KJHIAHRIAHURAILFHLSUHFITYH!!!!!!!!!!
I JUST WANNA GO HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
UTIUUFKJAIKRITKSJFKSJKJGA!!!!!

Oh, pray for me. I know you guys don't all pray to the same God I pray to, or if you pray to anybody at all, but please pray for me.
I don't care if you have to bow down to that giant statue of Adam Lambert constructed entirely of old gum that you secretly have in your closet, just PLEASE beg someone for my salvation.
I really need it. I can't do this by myself.


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Tuesday, January 26, 2010

I am so happy. :D
My whole class just watched Akeelah and the Bee because we had nothing to do, and the movie always puts me in a good mood.
Overall, it's been a great day.
That dude Tyrique still hasn't shown up. I've been asking around, no one appears to have ssen him today. Maybe he's sick...? I don't know. I didn't see him yesterday either. /:
Ah well.

Spent my whole lunch period talking to my friend John's ex. lol My ex likes her too apparently.

It made me realize how good I've got it. I litterally have no drama at all going on in my life right now. Everything's good. Whatever conflict I do have is either all in my head or completely insignificant.

*HUGECONTENTEDSIGH* I'm so happy, I'm bursting!
ily
~Belinda
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Monday, January 25, 2010

So. Today was pretty shitty.
I overslept, I missed the bus, I just barely managed to get my rosary in, my frenemy couldn't take a joke and get pissed off at me, I didn't have enough time in the morning to go see Tyrique, I had to spend about an hour and a half in my least favorite class, and the day didn't get much better from there. Oy.
I'm. So. Tired.
'-____-
Some days I really just cannot believe my luck. It's the most bipolar thing in the world.

Oh. And somebody (I think it was Corn) asked me awhile ago what anime I was watching.
Well, after being deliciously mind-fucked for a few weeks by a horror/action series that I have sneaking suspicion was broadcast in a completely non-chronological, random order (Kara no Kyokai, I think it was called), I have now began to watch Elfen Lied. I gotta say, it's pretty good.
Unspeakably gory, tragic, and not quite was as mind-fucking as Kara no Whateveritwas, but good. Then again, how could it not be? The themesong is in Latin! How cool is that?

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Saturday, January 23, 2010

My Weekend was fine, why do you ask?
Make me your favorite drug.
Go on, take a chance, take a drag, take a hit and run.
Stand with me outside and tell me Summer’s coming when I’ve never been this cold.
You may have gone to rehab, but I still got the shivers. I still got the shivers.

Don’t lie to me now.
I’m sorry.
It’s too late, it’s too late.
I can’t bring myself to save the world when mine’s already dead.
I can’t become, so just let me be.

Make me your best machine.
Take me with you to planet glamour zombie please.
Got caught between the escape clause and the scapegoat again,
And I keep getting lost in my own head.
This town just doesn’t make any sense without Jehovah and Sephoria.

Don’t lie to me now.
I’m sorry.
It’s too late, it’s too late.
I can’t bring myself to save the world when mine’s already dead.
I can’t become, so just let me be.
(Repeat chorus 2X)

The first of many depressing songs. XD OH, YES, FROM INCOHERENT POETRY TO POTENTIAL INCOHERENT LYRICS! WHEEEEEEEEEEE!
ily
~Belinda
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Friday, January 22, 2010

Reasons why today was amazing:

1. People continually throughout the day told me I did a really good job at last night's poetry slam. (I didn't win, though, by the way. I got eliminated in the third round.)

2.Second period was actually tolerable.

3. Due to midterms screwing up the schedule, Creative Writing was the longest class of the day, meaning I got to finish my crappy short story AND work on my altered book.

4. Lunch was also different for me, so I got to sit with a tableful of friends I hardly ever get to see/talk to anymore.

5. It's friday.

6. I don't have that much homework over the weekend.

7. Some guy (I think he said his name was Tyrique or Tyrone or something) approached in the hallway in between classes, told me I was his and his friends favorite poet at last nights slam, and asked me to write lyrics for their band--in other words, IT'S A DREAM COME TRUE!!!!!!!!
HIAJHFJKAJF I ALWAYS WANTED TO TRY BEING A LYRICIST!!! THIS IS AMAZING!!! :DDDDDDDD

There, are, however, drawbacks to reason number 7. They are as follows:

-There is a possibility that Dan, my ultimate arch nemesis, may be a member of this band, as I have witnessed Ty-whats-his-face and Dan conversing together a few times in the halls. (Not to mention, Dan's been playing guitar since he was about seven, so obviously he has musical talent.)

-I cannot remember what Ty-what's-his-faces name actually is. I'm pretty sure it's Tyrique, but I'm not sure.

-There is also a possibility that Ty-whats-his-face may be a total douche, as my acquaintance Josh "does not care for him." Hm...

-Ty-whats-his-face probably thinks I'm a total airhead, because he was trying to get my attention in the hallway, but at first I didn't hear him, then I didn't think he was talking to me, so I kept walking, so.. yeah. XD I'm so smooth. He thought I was ignoring him, but I was like "Nooo!"

I don't know. I'm excited though. :D
WHEEEEEEEEE!
ily
~Belinda
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Thursday, January 21, 2010

DO NOT READ
The first thing I heard when the blood pounding in my head quieted down enough to let me notice anything besides D being as close to me as he was, was the song playing on the radio. Cruelly and coincidentally enough, it was the same song that, when I first heard it a mere seven weeks ago, made me swear I would never let him do this to me again.
“Just talk yourself up and tear yourself down.”
With his hands still entwined in mine, his body still pressed to mine, still smothering me, still holding me up and keeping me down, I would have burst into tears right then and there.
“You‘ve hit your one wall.”
I would have, but then he would have pulled away out of concern and stayed away long enough to ask me what was wrong. When I wouldn’t answer because he already knew perfectly well that it was him, deep down, that was the problem, he would leave left me here, in this cold, harsh, fluorescent lit room all alone.
“Now find a way around.”
Being in this cold, harsh, fluorescent lit room alone would kill me far more slowly and painfully than it is killing me to be in this room with D, as he slowly, tantalizingly takes everything that I am and makes it dependent on him.
“What‘s the problem?”
I used to abhor this kind of thing with every fiber of my being.
“You‘ve got a lot of nerve.”
I used to think I was so much stronger, so much more sensible, so much better than those girls who’s entire existence depended on that one solitary guy, whether he cared at all about her or not.
“So, what did you think I would say?”
Now, though, that I’m only one more encounter with D away from becoming one of those girls, I merely pity them. I only ever feel this pathetic and obsequious every other week. I can’t imagine having to feel like this 24/7.
“No.”
Because the truth of the matter is, D and I are just not meant to last. We never were. No amount of effort or heartache or lust or infatuation would ever make us “meant to be” or “the real thing” or whatever cliché works best, and it’s simply no use forcing something if it’s just not right.
“You can‘t run away.”
The wise thing to do, therefore, would be to severe all connections with each other and simply get on with our lives, no matter how painful and gut-wrenchingly difficult it is to do so.
“You can‘t run away.”
Unfortunately, this option, I’ve just discovered, is far too painful and gut-wrenchingly difficult for either of us to carry out.
“You wouldn‘t.”
So, I guess instead, we’re just going to have to be wrong and be together until it kills us.
“So, what did you think I would say?”
The lust and infatuation keeping us together is more of a drug than a feeling. The more we experience it, the more our brains disintegrate and the more impossibly agonizing it is to quit cold-turkey.
“No, you can’t run away.”
The thing is there’s a part of me that likes it that way.
“You can’t run away.”
I know it’s really selfish of me to think this, but even though I’m so much more considerate and smarter and overall better without him, at moments like these, when everything just comes so easy with us, I’d sooner shoot myself in the face than go back to living in the cruel reality that is life without D.
“You wouldn’t.”
Judging by the fact he’s all over me right now, I’d say he feels about the same. Then again, I never know. Sometimes I think he’ll finally come to his senses one day and realize that there’s nothing special about all these little trysts, and that I’m just a whore for keeping up this little symbiotic charade and he’s just a monster for letting me.
“I never wanted to say this.”
But that would never happen. D believes in himself way too much to even consider the possibility of something like that happening without him noticing. He’s one of those guys who think he knows everything about anything girl-related.
“You never wanted to stay.”
Unfortunately for him, he never stopped to consider the possibility that all girls are not the same, and that maybe--just maybe--I might be different from all his other little conquests.
“I put my faith in you.”
Honestly, the only reason we even became involved with each other in the first place was because he lost a bet and had to ask me out, and I lost my mind and said yes. I thought, “What the hell. I’ve got nothing left to lose at this point and I’m not attracted to him in the least, so there’s no way he could take anything from me even if he wanted to.”
“So much faith…”
But then things started happening. He began to give me those looks that said I was special and those embraces that said he never wanted to let go, and before I could even sense it, I did not just feel like a worthless, crumpled up piece of debris on the floor when he looked at me, but a hidden diamond. All I needed was a good light, like D, to shine and my value was beyond any measure.
“And then you…”
Unfortunately, it soon became evident that I was not the only diamond he’d been illuminating. With this discovery plaguing me, I spent what felt like years avoiding him, not wanting him to see that I his betrayal had reduced me to mere cubic zirconium—just barely better than a piece of plastic.
“Just….”
Finally, though, he tracked me down and confronted me. The look in his eyes shattering every wall I’d ever built, he demanded to know where had I been, why hadn’t I been returning his calls, and why was I looking at him like that?
“Threw it…”
I wanted to be brave. I wanted to tell D I was looking at him like I was because I knew where he had been, who he had been talking to, and who he had been looking at. When I opened my mouth, though, all that came out was the sound of my voice breaking and my tear-ducts exploding. The next thing I knew, I was in his arms, bawling like a newly widowed widow.
“Away.”
Oh, how I hated myself at that instant. I wasn’t supposed to be like that. That was not me. I was supposed to be the poster girl for strong, independent, self-sufficient, sensible women, and all I had to do in that instant to make everything right was tell D I knew he’d been cheating on me and that it was over, but I simply could not do it, and what’s worse, could not stop crying.
“I’m not so naïve.”
For awhile, I struggled with my feelings and tried over and over again to detach myself from D, but it was like trying to rip my own lungs out using nothing but my bare hands—possible, but extremely difficult and excruciatingly painful. Because of this, I gave up and succumbed to my impossible, treacherous emotions. For a few months, I was even able to forget what D was doing to me and what I was doing to myself by letting him.
“My sorry eyes can see…”
It wasn’t until I heard this song that I was reminded why I had fought so hard against this addiction. It wasn’t so much the words as much as it was the tone of the singers voice—she sounded so angry, so confrontational, so confident, and so much like I used to be.
“The way…”
See, this song isn’t so much a portrayal of mine and D’s situation as much as it is a portrayal of what the situation was supposed to be.
“You fight shy…”
This was the song I was supposed to sing to him that day I gave in. The lyrics were exactly what I was supposed to say to him. They perfectly illustrated the balance between the psychotic, vengeful, victimized ex-girlfriend and the optimistic, hopeful, recovered, strong women I wanted to be. I didn’t just want to shrug it off my shoulders like it was okay because it wasn’t, but I also didn’t want to spend the rest of my life obsessing over D.
“Of almost everything.”
I wanted to be an optimistic pessimist too.
“Well, if you give up…”
“Cori,” D abruptly says. I open my eyes. He’s looking at me like I just sprouted a tail and fangs.
“You’ll get what you deserve.”
I’m about to ask why he’s staring at me so strangely, but then I feel it—the warm moisture on my face. Tears. When did I start crying?
“So what did you think I would say? No, you can’t run away.”
He frowned.
“You know, don’t you? About the other girl?”
Oh, God, no. Please don’t me think about this now.
“You can’t run away. You wouldn’t”
Oh, but I would. I would.
“Okay,” D sighs. “Look, that was before I knew you, like really knew you. I know that’s the lamest excuse ever, but I’m really sorry, and—”
“I never wanted to say this.”
“D,” I say, somehow managing to feign a casual tone. “Please be quiet. I don’t care about her.”
“What?”
“You never wanted to stay.”
“The other girl—I don’t care about her. She doesn’t matter.”
“Of course she does!” he says, almost angrily. “Don’t you get it? I cheated on you! Don’t just act like everything’s okay.”
“I put my faith in you.”
Ah. So it’s drama he wants.
I sigh. I can’t help but smile a bit at how I’m the one crying, but he’s the one who sounds hysterical.
“Sorry, D,” I murmur. “I can’t really get worked up about that right now. I’m too tired.” And I am—it really is exhausting being this addicted and this hopeless.
“So much faith.”
Brown eyes wide, he looks at me and shakes his head.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks. “I thought we were… I thought you…”
Oh, good God. He thought I loved him. Poor kid.
With a sigh, I tell him not to worry. I just haven’t been getting enough sleep and am therefore just tired.
“And then you just threw it away.”
He says okay, and believes me, because just like me he can’t bring himself to accept the truth yet. He’s not ready. Neither of us is.
“You were gone long before…”
Then again, we were never ready for each other in the first place.
“We had even seen the start.”
If we were older, if I wasn’t so jaded and he wasn’t so naïve, we would be perfect.
“Why don’t you stand up big?”
I can’t


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