Okay, it's been a while, I know. You see that there is no countdown. Well, school dated so it lost its purpose. I'm sorry I didn't post the last day before school or the first day of school. It's busier than I thought. Plus, I wasn't in my right state of mind. It's not cool Kit went behind my back to post this, (thank God no reads this series), but I understand she was trying to do. Of course, I want to say that she shouldn't go sharing my personal life but then she reminds me that I do that myself.
Whoops.
Anyway, I'm back!... And in second period. We get a lot of free time in this class. Which happens to be chorus. The warmups are a little silly, especially when 60 socially awkward teenagers have anxiety but chairs are turned to face each other and it's had to do the warmup without giggling.
My first period class is English. My teacher is awesome.
Wait, I gotta move classes.
Okay, I'm at lunch now. Code name for English teacher... we'll call her Mrs. Scribs. Mrs. Scribs is awesome she lets us pretty much roam wild, (which I'm not used to yet), but she has a reason for we can do. Like, "you can chew gum, just don't put it under the desk." Also she made icebreakers where... wait for it... we don't have to talk! It's amazing that she found a way to introduce us all without my social anxiety not going crazy. I mean I shouldn't say that. I don't have social anxiety and I bet I could never understand what it's like. I just start hyperventilating in crowds and when I have to speak someone I'm not comfortable with, I start sweating and if I don't know anyone at a party, will go into the bathroom and start scratching the newly healed razor mark on my wrists. I don't have anxiety but I think I'm close.
It was four corners but whatever. Elementary games in high school are cool. Fight me.
Whenever I get nervous or bored I start scratching at my wrist. I don't know why, my thumb nail just likes to brush over it and make my pale skin light up. It feels numbing.
Oh yeah, btw, I think I made my first attempt at self harm. I just let the razor bush over my skin until it started to hurt. I didn't get far, don't worry. That razor mark I'm scratching at? That's the first and last time that has happened. Just... Everyone does it to make them feel disciplined for all the horribleness that they are, but it felt dangerous. Like I was walking on a floor with glass shards scattered everywhere. Until it hurt. Then I threw the razor across the bathroom and realized the fox I was doing. So it healed, but it feels comforting to just scratch over it when I'm bored.
Anyway school is awesome, but i missed the second day and I'm suddenly wishing I hadn't. I was able to attend English and Chorus, what I consider to be my easy classes. But then there is Spanish and math. Dreadful, deadful math. Our teacher is nice, but I had WAAAAAAAYYYY too much to catch up on. And I'm just a freshman. Junior year is going to suck. "College will be paradise if I'm not dead by June!" -Veronica Sawyer (from Heathers the Musical). So yup. I'm scared.
So my girl crush is almost gone, (she hasn't been talking to me for days), so I guess I'm stuck with boys again. Boys. Probably the most reoccurring problem in the world of the straight girl. Boys. One sec. Gonna get all FOXING artsy in this joint. "... 'Cause this mother***** about to get dragged by his fringe." -Daniel Howell.
...
Love.
What does it mean?
What does it do?
None of these things I can answer to you.
All I know is it spins you in circles,
Almost like a waltz.
Has your stomach swirl like ribbons,
And soon you're not able to talk.
It's supposed to have you turn to jelly. Knees like spaghetti.
Every item of clothing feels frilly.
And frivolous things,
His curls, his smile,
It's stays in your mind all the the while. To everyone,
You had it coming.
It was obvious.
How could you not see?
But doctor, doctor,
(A guy I don't know who)
I've got a problem.
Instead of jelly,
I feel like peanut butter.
I've got a taste I can't seem to get out of my mouth.
I make people around me puff up.
Only instead of their faces,
It's their heads.
And I feel so so so...
I feel like pie.
And sugar, flour, butter make me,
But I feel empty inside.
Why can't the sugar flour and butter be enough for me?
Everyone has accepted they won't find their half.
Sugar, butter, and flour are enough.
How do they seem so tough?
It makes me feel so so so...
I'm following the empty treasure map of life.
No reward.
No "Be warned!"
Just "Go!"
And it makes me feel so so so...
Small,
No one cared.
And that's why I can't tell you about love.
I'm the small Siamese sailor who sailed the seven salty seas,
But the thing was...
I was small,
No one ever cared.
I've disappointed,
I've disappeared,
I'm disabled,
Never enabled,
Stories I've been wishing for,
Always fabled.
And I'm sorry for being so so so...
Small,
No one cared.
...
But no one came.
Luv you all! I know what it's like to feel small. So small, you could disappear. I'm being serious right now. If you ever feel alone, listen to Dear Evan Hansen. Please. Please. Please.
Please. Someone will come.
When your thoughts say:
Small
But no one came
No one cared
PLEASE LISTEN TO ME. Ok? It's the most you could do for lil' ol' me.
BTW: ROXY is my new best friend, (my shoes). They stick with me, rain or shine and I'm comfortable around them. Is it weird how much my shoes sound like a friend?
#yourstruly
Sincerely Me
