Christmas Magic.

Happy Holidays to all in celebration. I love this time. Brother running away, parents fighting, debt, whores, mistakes, and unhappiness. Christmas spirit right? The only thing I love about this time, is...well not a lot really. I guess I like the commercials. They're not too bad. I just wish time wasn't so quick when you get older. It makes everything less magical. I'd still like to believe in it. I'm not ready to let go.

Great ball of fire.

So I finally get what those people are talking about when they do something stupid just because they can control it unlike everything else in their lives. I didn't even realize I was one of those poeple until a while ago. But, that does make me like most people. Almost no one realizes what they do or who they are. Not really anyways. In a way it's a very hopeless feeling. It makes you try and stop time or stop the world from spinning or make it go backwards, kinda like super man. Sometimes, all I want to do it sit and listen to the sounds of the grass growing but I can't because it's winter and snow is everywhere. I really hate snow sometimes. It's too white and blinds you whenever you look at it. And it only stay beautiful right before dawn when no one is awake to ruin it with salt and sand and dirt and car tracks and imprints from boots. I can only look at it at night. Only when the moon is bright enough to make it glitter. Everything looks beautiful in bright moonlight. It's when the source of the moon's light shines that makes everything ugly and true.

Death in the Bermuda Triangle.

Sometimes, I will take the time to pay attention to my parents and then maybe, just maybe, listen to the shit that spills from their rotten mouths. I find it so horrible they way they look at each other with hate and a painful amount of desperation. How could anyone live like that and not have tried to stuff a grenade up their own ass? The things they say to me and how they purposely try to make me mad. I want to vomit up every horrible moment of this life so I can forget it and maybe have a chance. I want a chance to not know who they are so that maybe I won't turn out to be exactly like them. But, I know I can't do such a thing. Which is why I tell people I am never going to get married, never going to have children, and am going to die in my 20's so I won't ever have to become like them entirely. People think I am twisted and a freak and they are right. I am demented. I don't want to get married and hate the person I'm with but stay with them for my druggie son and fucked up daughters sake and end up making every mistake I tried so hard to avoid. Fuck that. I'm out.

Point your finger around.

So you know how you feel when you find out that people have lied to you for a really long time? Yeah, it sucks. And what's worse is that the only one to blame is myself. And I realize that I lied to myself for just as long and I started to believe it. Now, I'm the one left with all the consequences. Life has a way of sucking like that sometimes. I guess it's my fault for falling for it. The only person we can ever count on is ourselves and when we can't do that, we get screwed over. So here's a piece of advice. Count on no one to do anything but yourself. Everyone else will lie to you but you have the power to not believe them. Live your life for yourself and no one else. Besides, no one makes it out of life alive anyways. Remember?

Emily

P.S. Everyone knows but you. So do you still think you want to know? It can't be good if no one has told you right?

Don't tell.

What can you do when you know that every secret you have kept has done know nothing to help you in your life? Sometimes, the biggest secret we have is so confusing and complicated, it takes everything in us to let ourselves believe that's it's actually real. I was reading people's secrets on postsecrets.com and some of them are so terribly sad and I wonder how people can be living with these things inside and then I remember that we all are. We each have the one secret, or those two, or more. And, they are painfull, and sad but we keep them inside because we are afraid. Not of what people will think of us but because if we keep inside we are the only ones who have to believe it and bear the pain that comes with it. If we keep it inside it doesn't seem as real and it's easier to deal with. But really, what's the point? No one ever makes it out of life alive.

Circles and hope.

Sometimes when you sit all alone on a Satuday night with hair that looks like shit and your father claims that everything that has ever gone wrong in this family is your fault, you just don't feel like it's worth it. And maybe it's not. Maybe we shouldn't have to put up with it at all but we do anyways because we know that what ever we do to try and change it will make us lose everything we love along with whatever it is we want to change. It's a horrible vicious circle and it never stops. It's sad that it may never change for the most of us. I think that may be the hardest part. Knowing that it could be possible and having that small amount of hope but all along really knowing we are stuck in lives we sometimes wish would end.

Your average American fuck-up.

Sometimes I get a little worried when I see some people not rebelling in some way against their parents. Not that I am suggesting that everyone show go pierce their tongue and join a cult, but a little rebellion is necessary. If you are never fighting what your parents do or say, you could be conforming to their incorrect ideas instead of forming your own. Take, for example, your average way too over protective, wrongly assuming, asshole parent who believes that a coat of iron at least 3 inches thick should be protecting their child at all times. Those parents can get really bad if their kids aren't slapping them on the wrist and saying "Hey, did I ever tell you your are a real dick wad sometimes? Well, you are." It is especially bad when you have that parent speaking out about it. "Well, I don't mean to make this any harder for you or put you on the spot (when they really do), but I am concerned about my child (when they really have just lost a way to either A. grab attention or B. speak about what they think)" They speak about the most ridiculous things. Like "Will the dorm rooms be at least 500 yards apart?" or "Are there going to be more than 20 chaperone's?" I mean, c'mon, your kid is going to be just fine. Stop pissing your pants and get a life that doesn't involve playing God to your child. So, in a way, I take back what I said. If you have this kind of parent, I say go get a couple tats and skip a class or two. You deserve it.

Who loves you baby?

Sorry there hasn't been an update lately. I know all you rabid readers of my mine were extremely disappointed. The big thunderstorm two Friday's ago knocked out our power and then made our computer go out and it decided it never wanted to work again so here I am at my fathers office checking my 43 new e-mails and 10 new MySpace messages. I also happen to be failing English class because I can't turn in my assignments. Wonderful, no? Oh, by the way, I am starting this protest and a fundraiser to put a real candidate for the presidential elections. There should be someone I want to vote for. It shouldn't be that you should vote for someone just because you don't want the other one to win. It'll be great. Us youngins are going to actually do something, okay? I think we all need to get off our lazy asses and stop complaining about the government that we aren't even trying to change. I'll update with the details later. But, if you are going to be in the are for it, please come. It'll be like the seventies all over again. Like the modern day hippies but without the flares and tie-dye. Well, pray for my uncooperative computer back home.

Emily


व्हो लोवेस यू बेबी?

Dark Humor

The other day in English class, we read a poem by Walt Whitman. It was about war. It was really great. I absolutely loved it. In the poem, the narrator was urging the drums and bugles to play louder so that no one would notice the horrible things of war. It was so cool how he explained it. I mean back in all the wars before Vietnam, the only time we really saw soldiers was when they came home and there was a huge parade and then Vietnam came and everyone saw what was happening in the real war, everyone threw a huge fit. He was so ahead of his time with the poem. It was great. I love poetry in English class. This other one we read was about how this guy found out how all of life was a dream and in war he awoke and saw that real life was nothing but a nightmare and then the last line was the most amazing. Such dark humor: "And when I died, they washed me out of the turret with a hose". It was so great how it conveyed how war takes away both the guy that died because he was simply washed away and the person who washed him away because it was inhumane to do such a thing but that's what happens in war. My English teacher is amazing. Okay, that's all.


Emily



P.S. Did you know that buy switching to energy efficient light bulbs, you save money because they are guaranteed to last seven years and each light bulb saves 25 pounds of carbon dioxide from being released into the atmosphere. The choice seems obvious; energy efficient, duh.

Questioning our position.

डेस वार स्टील हवे पुर्पोसे इफ तेरे इस नो पाके तहत फोललोव्स

It's Hindi.

Translation: Does war still have purpose if there is no peace that follows?

The answer seems obvious. Is it really?

Number One.

Hello all. From the title I assume you know that my name is Emily. I'm young and I have many Utopian ideas floating around in my head. Sometimes, I think my ideas are worth a shot. I get money for traffic on this site and I want to give it to charities. Mostly charities that will help people in third world countries who don't have food, jobs, education, or money for good medical assistance. Who knows, maybe my "perfect world" ideas could help make everything a little better. Remember, the more traffic I get on my blog, the more money for charities.