aznkrnstr's Xanga

Karaoke

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 14:01:37 GMT

is medicine for the soul.

This entry is entirely for me and my wellbeing.

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 01:08:40 GMT

It's so scary to see myself trusting someone again. After everything I went through, people would think I was crazy to fall in love again.

I'm not gonna lie. It was hard. I could never tell him how much he's done for me, how much he's helped heal everything. It's not just having someone to hold and cuddle with, because believe me we can't do much of that. He was there when I needed to vent or when I was feeling ugly. He's been here and knew exactly what to say and when to say it.

That's why I'm even more terrified now.

Trusting is easy at the beginning. Everything is new and if they broke that trust, it's easy to clean up after. Let's throw in a relationship, falling in love, and distance to that and it gets a bit more complicated. I don't know what's keeping me in this rut. It's the same thing every time. I get insecure on how much longer he'll love me until he finds out I'm really not worth it.

Okay, I know. It sounds like I'm insecure about myself and you guys are gonna tell me that I should love myself before I should love anyone else blahblahblah. I DO love myself. I love myself a lot. I also love him. I also know that we're young and "love" is a taboo subject for us "children." Shut up. This is my blog. Imma do what i do, aite?

/sigh
1. I'm PMSing. PRE-menstrual.
2. I don't know how to express feelings well. This is a poor effort of trying to make sense of the jumble in my brain.

3. I just miss him so much.

What happens when Dora gets fed up with it:

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 01:37:41 GMT

JENNIFER "EDDY", JENNY "LIZ", KYLA "RAYNE*BO", BROOKE "WEAVERBEAVER"

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 21:32:14 GMT

BROOKE
Remember Brooke, when you used to hate me in 6th grade and we became the best of friends?
Remember your birthday party and we painted your room and remember the first time you, Tiffany, and I took out my parents car and drove for the first time?
Remember sleeping over your Grandma's house and writing on the whiteboard? Remember trying to make videos for youtube and making "movies" and stuff?
Remember how many stupid fights we got into and how we got over it?
Remember when we'd walk to my mom's store and play on the railroad tracks?
Remember how you'd always dance with your palms?
Remember doing photoshoots at my house?

JENNY
Remember making Spagettio's into C's?
Remember having a dance to every song on my ipod and dancing like freaks on the bus?
Remember touchdown turnaround?
Remember designated "emo" days?
Remember when we found out you were allergic to chocolate and how I was so sad because I couldn't have hot chocolate at your house anymore?
Remember when we tried skating on that HUGE freakin hill?
Remember throwing Sarah in the air to "Reunited"?
Remember putting that blue nail polish (what were we thinking??) on our nails and feeling so girly?
Remember when we finished that health paper and the Hallelujah ringtone?

JENNIFER
Remember how we were gonna walk from the movies BACK to my house?
Remember how we were always together and always on the same page?
Remember David, the short leprechaun man?
Remember dying our hair at that church retreat in Tennessee?
Remember going to the mall, camera whoring, and finding Waldo?
Remember you getting that Zach(k?) Efron poster at Claires(i think)?
Remember ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS talking about boys?
Remember me being scared of you in 1st grade because you told me to get out of the tube?
Remember watching that couple makeout while watching Prom Night?

KYLA
Remember floating in your pool and pretending to be dead?
Remember playing with fire at your house and roasting marshmallow things?
Remember being best friends with Tiana and always being together?
Remember me walking to your house, like, everyday?
Remember that one day after Battle of the Books practice and we were coming out of Mrs. Rayfield's room and we were laughing so hard because it looked like I was humping the floor?
Remember always getting mistaken for each other?
Remember my first day at Catawba Heights and when I saw you and was like,"I KNOW HER!"?
Remember Tony? puahahaha.
Remember writing poetry in 6th grade and think it was soooo coooool?

YOU GUYS
You guys remember when we all used to hate each other?
Then remember when I had that disgusting crush on Tim? Then that crush on Jordan?
Remember when I dated Tony and got all suicidal?
Remember when at one point, it really was friends-forever?
Remember when we all grew up?
Remember the last day of 8th grade?
Remember all the little things that made each relationship special?

So, we've grown apart. We've moved on, gone to different highschools, and some of the things I listed might not even ring a bell. I'll always have you guys in my hearts because you made my middle school years something I honestly will never forget.

Stealing of a Chocolate Bar

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 21:52:44 GMT

So there's this kid that sits behind me in Math. I share my answers with him, I share my candy with him, I share laughter with him. Let's call him Mr. Z.

So today, there happened to be a little chocolate bar fundraiser. I specifically told the fundraiser guy to save me a milk chocolate bar while I go a few feet away and get my purse. I announced this to the class making known my desire for that bar of milk chocolate deliciousness.

Then, I return to find not ONLY did Mr. Z. take a milk chocolate bar, but he took the LAST and ONLY milk chocolate bar that was in there. I am positive he had heard me announce to the class that the chocolate bar that he was about to consume was rightfully mine. BUT, I did not get angry yet. I, instead, bought a WF Crisp and an Almond milk chocolate bar. I turned around to my friend and asked ever so sweetly if I could just have a bit of his chocolate in exchange for an equal portion of mine. His answer??!

I'm not sure if he realizes it yet, but he can just forget about me helping him out with radical equations tomorrow.

Letting things out. Ugh.

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 21:29:38 GMT

I'm just not fucking happy anymore. Call it teen angst, call it over exaggerating, call it spoiled, but I'm not content.

I don't have any close friends within a 300 mile radius. The only "best friend" I had ditched me for 5 of her new boyfriends. All the girls at my school are those girls that are "only friends with guys because they get along with them better." Bullshit, it's because you like the attention from those guys. AND THEN you act so surprised when those same guys "fall in love" with you, as if you didn't know that you were leading them on. I'm forced to make acquaintances and stay off from guys because girls just don't like being friends with other girls anymore apparently.

I feel like a stranger in my house. No one asks about my day, no one cares to let the thought cross their mind that maybe Esther isn't feeling so great. Many parents just live life and look at my grades. My little brother is an inconsiderate brat. My big brother can't handle anything in my life. My big brother just can't handle dilemma right now.

This past week feels like I'm living day after day. I want to fill this .. unsatisfied vast of crap in my body but I honestly don't know how. I try praying (I still am), I try hanging out with a few friends, I try to spend family time, but I just feel worse. I hate being so damn emo all the damn time.

AUGH MOTHERFUCKIN SHIT FACE DAMN SHIT FUCK FUCKFUCKFUCK DAMNDA ;SJFALSKJDF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Goodbye.

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:23:41 GMT

I've never been one who could say goodbye easily. I don't mean those goodbyes from school when you'll see that person the next day, or saying goodbye to your last chicken nugget (although that's pretty damn hard too). It's those goodbyes to things that change your life.

It doesn't just have to be a person. It could just be a moment in time. The goodbye kiss to end a perfect date, or that goodbye to a close friend you don't see often. Those goodbyes are just so final, so definite, so...quick.

My goodbyes consist of either/both of two things. Tears streaming down my face or having to be strong and show little emotion. I can't say it's always been those two extremes, but it's usually somewhere along those lines.

I can't stop reliving that last goodbye. It was all so rushed and held back. If I could go back and do it again, I don't know what I'd do differently, but maybe hold on just a little longer. Just a bit more longer to remember by.

Sweetest Sin

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 19:10:03 GMT

Firm and delicate in my hands, I put it to my lips.
I savor it with the tip of my tongue, giving it short, quick licks.
It starts to get warm and that's when I know it's time.
I slowly let my lips encircle it, sucking it in until it's all in my mouth,
the sweet residue staining my lips.
I let my tongue play with it a little bit in my mouth and savor the taste, the feel.
The creamy leftover slides down my throat so smoothly.
Then I lick my lips for anything leftover.

That was the best piece of chocolate I ever had.

My Day in List Form

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 03:55:42 GMT

My throat is dry.

Clay is a lot more harder to work with than I ever thought possible.

My hand is bruised from clay.

I saw a little kid pee in the bushes today.

The little kid turned around and I saw a little penis.

I think I going to jail for child molestation or something.

I am severely lacking sleep. Less than 5 hours for the last few days.

I'm surprised I'm sane enough to type in sentences that make sense.

My xanga entries suck. I frankly could give a rat's ass.

Emo Post. Avoid.

Sun, 27 Sep 2009 02:56:48 GMT

No one's strong all the time. They keep pushing, more and more. They're pushing you toward that line until they finally make you cross it. Then you lose it.

I've been angry. I've been furious. Then there's that blinding rage that I feel every so often when all I want to do is hit anything. It's that blinding rage that gets that beast out and I don't seem like Esther anymore. I don't even seem remotely like her.

No one, absolutely NO ONE, has seen this. My common sense dissipates, my strength triples, my vision gets red. I just turn into this monster that lost her cool.

Then it does cool down. I look at the damage I've done and start to cry. I cry for the damage, I cry for change, I cry about what made me angry in the first place. It's one big nasty cycle that keeps repeating every time I get pushed over that line. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of looking down at bruised knuckles and a tears-and-snot drenched shirt.

You know what else I'm tired of? My emo entries on Xanga. Sorry for the rubbish. Writing is the only non-violent fill I have at the moment.