Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Important facts that I probably forgot to mention:

1. My boyfriend has a demon living inside him that only comes out when he gets in a fight.

2. He does not see this as a bad thing.

3. It is a bad thing.

4. I'm ALWAYS smooth. lol (inside joke)

5. I'm alright in bed, but I'm better with a pen.

6. Why, yes. That was a misused Fallout Boy quote.

7. My ass has been killing me all day.

=EPIC FAIL


=HELL YES

Why, yes. We do live in a Pokemon world. Thanks for asking.
~Belinda
ily all


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Tuesday, September 8, 2009

So...
Listening to techno remix Fallout Boy on Jenny's page because she's all kinds of awesome.

NAME-DROPPING, OH EM GEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Well, let's see. At best, I have a D in AP English, and a C in geometry. Ahahaha, epic fail. Fosho. '-__-
Honest to God, it hurts like a bitch these days.
I can't write.
I can't draw.
I can't even pick a theme.
Umm... Help?

Shaun asked me the other day if I hated myself.
I simply chuckled awkwardly and replied "Sometimes."
What I wish I would've said was: Of course I don't hate myself. I just hate everyone else for being so much better than me.

But you know. That's just me.

I feel like I'm better off alone, but I'm too selfish to be alone. Like, I'm a better person when I'm single, but I'm too happy to become single. Which is weird, considering love is supposed to make you a better person, but I honestly don't know the first thing about love. I don't think anybody does.
~Belinda
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Tuesday, September 1, 2009

So. 2nd day of school, and I already have a growing suspicion that I am flunking 2 of my best subjects. '-__-

It's so weird. I had no idea you could be this stressed and bored at the same time. I think I'm going to explode if it keeps going like this for long.

Last night, I felt dead inside.
Today, I just wish I was dead.
At least then, I could have some inner peace.
*sigh*
Thinking of dying my hair pink again after awhile. It's not healthy to dye it every month or so. Gotta at least wait 6 months. Til then, I gotta find something to break up the monotony, because my life is no fun at all right now.

Oh, and by the way, it's my little brother's birthday today. He's 14. ^^ HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROBERT!!!
ily
~Belinda
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Sunday, August 30, 2009

Tomorrow is the first day of school.
Please. Kill me. Now.
'''-----________________-----

Srsly. Epic headahes. I can feel them already.

Argh.
ily
~Belinda
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Sunday, August 23, 2009

So.
I just got back from a week in Florida. Went to Disney World every day. All 4 parks.
It was fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun
Almost died of heat stroke on multiple occasions, but it was worth it.
The second time we went to Epcot, they had this one Celtic/Country/Rock band called Offkilter playing. They were really good. They all wore kilts and they one guy playing bag pipes. I loved it.

In other news...I have no clue. Everything's in a haze, at the moment.

Fight one addiction with another.
The only way I can quit cold turkey is to find myself another drug to take during withdraw.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
This has been yet another inappropriate song choice for a girl my age."
Should I be ashamed?
I should always be ashamed,
because, baby, I put the fix in crucifix.
Just can't bring myself to let go.
He told me to be more free-spirited.
Now I'm so free, I'm floating 300 million miles off outer-space.
And I'm not sure if it's worth going home just to have some other game my bones.

~Belinda
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Tuesday, August 11, 2009

If I have to hear the world "college" one more time, this whole damn town is going up in flames.
I wish people would stop blabbering at me about the future and just fucking let me be.
Shit, I can barely survive high school--what the hell makes them think I can live through the C word?
Not to mention, the cost of text books and all that other shit.
I could break down in tears just break down in tears just thinking about it, honestly.

*sigh* But let's not waste this whole post typing about something I don't wanna even think about.

Let's talk about now.
About the fact that my boyfriend, who is supposedly madly in love with me, can't be bothered to call me at least once a day.
About the fact that one of my bestest friends in the world, Aquia, moved back to West Virginia 2 months ago, meaning I'm going to have to survive my remaining 2 years of high school without her.
About the fact that I can't find my MP3-player charger, so now I won't even have a soundtrack to crash and burn to once I finally hit the bottom of the bile-black abyss I've spent the past few days falling into.

*sigh* Thank God I'm going to Florida in a few days. Let me be struck by lightening in the middle of a sun shower if I don't need a vacation.

ily
~Belinda
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Saturday, August 1, 2009

Take me to the pent-house suite.
Make me the latest and greatest machine.
Cause 3 seconds just isn't enough to keep
me together anymore.

Yeah... That thars the song song I just wrote. Pretty short, but I can't sing anyway, so it don't matter.

Saw Margaret yesterday. Watched Sarah Plan And Tall. lol OVER THE TOP HEARTFELT MOMENTS, THY NAME IS HALLMARK!!

School starts back up on the 25th. I am sooooooo not ready. '-_-
ily
~Belidna

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Friday, July 31, 2009

If all our lives are but a dream...
Then we been sleeping for about a century.

My best friend's ex doesn't know shit about love, and yet the whole damn world loves him.
If I could, I'd just take Margaret on a trip of reinvention and make her forget all about CJ.
Make her tear down all the pictures. Make her delete every last text message.
He threw her away. Shy should she still hang on to the pieces? I know it's a nice memory.
But in the end, it'll only hurt her more to think about it, because the good times lead straight to the bad, like a gaping hole in the floor. I wish she would just let go. I'm tired of seeing her suffer.
~Belinda
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Wednesday, July 29, 2009

My original intention was to write the most scandalous, controversial, conspiratorial story in history. I wanted to hear some gasps. Be praised by some critics who are paid to criticize for once, instead of just by my friends and my grandmother.
But there were a couple problems with this.
The first problem is, I'm old-fashioned--no-sex-before-marriage, never-been-high-a-day-in-my-life old-fashioned--so everything I find shocking is just old news to everyone else.
My English teachers always told me to not speak readers directly. No second person pronouns allowed.
They also told me to never start a sentence with the word "and."
And so, I guess that makes me a pretty shitty writer. Hence the second problem.
To tell you the truth, though, I was always more of a poet than an author, and there is in fact a very vast difference between the two.
If you're an author, you have to think up story-lines and characters and plot twists. Not to mention, subtext.
If, however, you are a poet or a lyricist, all you have to do is make sure the words sound good together. Honestly, they don't even have to make sense, as long as it has good connotation. And it doesn't matter if what flows out of the pen is complete, incoherent, vulgarly inadequate trash because it's "art," so no matter what, there's always going to be one person out there who likes it.
I'm not saying writing poetry is easy, but there's a hell of a lot more freedom in it than writing short stories or novels.
In all my years in the literary world, 3 of my poems have been published, and none of my stories.
I have completed countless poems in my life-time and zero short stories and/or novels. I've started about 14 of them, but for whatever reason, I can never finish them. The chapters of these unfinished manuscripts that I've shown my friends and family have always received outstanding acclaim, though, so I know for a fact I can write. I just can't finish anything I write.
Maybe it's because I've been taking this all too seriously. Maybe I've been thinking too much of the publishers and the editors and the critics and the rules. So fuck 'em all.
I'm just going to tell you all what happened regardless of whether or not this is worthy of being published. Knowing me, it's probably not, but right now I just can't bring myself to care.

On August twenty-fourth, 2007, I fell in love with a stranger.
As peculiar as it sounds, this concept was nothing new for me. I was still just a child in the body of a teenager at that point, so I'd been giving away my heart like a free I-pod for years.
But this time was different. When I saw him, I almost stopped breathing, and I instantly knew that for the rest of my life--or, at least, for however long I went to the same school as him--I would spend every waking minute thinking about him, looking at him, obsessing over him, practically stalking him. I also instantly knew that it was hopeless. I mean, I couldn't even talk around him much less to him. How could I possibly even begin to think about charming him into liking me back?
So, far a few weeks, I tried to force myself to hate him or at least make him hate me so as to give myself an excuse to stop practically dying of electrocution every time our eyes met. Because as beautiful and crucial as love is, after all, when it's unrequited, it's just a pain in the ass.
And even after my attempts to sabotage my hopeless infatuation and just get a grip on myself, it continued to be a pain in the ass. Only, more so then because the love of my life was now not only unattainable, but thought I was complete, repulsive, spastic freak.

Much of the year continued in this manner with me killing myself over him more and more with each passing day, depicting my descent into insanity with countless depressing and/or frustrated poems written in his honer, and with him not even pretending to care.
Until, one day--and I'll never have any way of knowing if this was a cruel joke or simply a brief lapse of judgment on his part--I witnessed a sign of hope that almost made up for what felt like a century of tantalization. We were in the cafeteria during our lunch period. I was on my way to the bathroom when I noticed he was looking right at me.
Without further notice, he stood up, and brought his hands together in the shape of a heart. Sort of a half-assed sign-language for "I love you."
I was so happy, I almost threw up.


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Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Oh, shit.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
I think I just completely ruined the greatest relationship of my life on Sunday.
It's all my fault.
I said yes to everything. Well, ALMOST everything. I'm still a virgin, but still... I fucked up big time.
Damn it. I'm typing 70 miles an hour, I'm panicking so hard.
Errrrrrrgh! I need to talk to Shaun, I need to talk to Shaun, INEEDTOTALKTOSHAUN!!!!!

Pray for me, please. I'm not trying to force my beliefs on anyone or anything like that, but PLEASE--I really, really need it.
Love you guys
~Belinda
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