Thankful.

I don't feel like posting about what I'm thankful for just because tomorrow is Thanksgiving, so I'm not going to. Instead, I'm going to post whatever I comes to my brain. I didn't go to school today. I'm staying home and watching my brother, who is not being completely annoying, besides the fact that he ate candy without asking but whatever. For the most part he's listening and that's all I really care about. I have to clean in preparation for Thanksgiving guests. I also have homework to do which sucks, but whatever. I'm really tired. I need a nap! My sleepiness seriously influenced my decision to stay home. Even though I didn't sleep any later than usual -___-. Anyway, I can't wait until Christmas. I reallly want Taylor Swift's perfume.I don't feel like finishing this post anymore...

My Heart

My heart is full of love. Love for fashion. Love for photography. Love for all the possibilities. I love that I have my whole life ahead of me. I love fresh towels and linen closets. I love that I don't know what could happen. I love my dreams of my entirely white bedroom, accented by ornate gold picture frames that are the homes to the artwork I've collected over time. Magazine covers, Breakfast at Tiffany's movie posters, and photos of my cats will litter my walls and the top of my dresser and short bookcase. My dream bed will be Queen-sized and have a white princess-style frame. At the end of my bed, there will be a trunk upholstered with purple soft material that doubles as a comfy seat. I will have a corner where my super comfy high-backed lavender reading chair is. There will be splashes of color splattered around my room in the form of pillows, floral arrangements, and clothing. I'll have a walk-in closet full of beautiful clothing for every occasion. One corner of my dream bedroom will be dedicated to my vanity, where I do my make-up, keep my perfumes and lotions, and some of my favorite jewelry. For some reason, I can only vividly visualize my bedroom. The rest of my imaginary apartment usually isn't imaginary, but bits of an apartment I vaguely remember visiting once. I suppose this is because I have been deprived of a sacred place that I can truly call my own. I've always had to share my room, so I'm able to clearly envision my ideal room because I've dreamed of one my whole life. How tragic. Anyway, thinking of the possibilities of my room, my career, my change from a duckling to a swan, excites and delights me. Time is moving a bit too slow for me and the fact that I know how close I am to my dreams becoming a reality makes me very antsy. . . But I digress, I am currently in a very loving mood. And because I am forced to find new ways to express this love, I have turned to myself(the only logical choice of course). I think I'll cover myself in glitter tomorrow. I find that who I am on the inside is no way represented on the outside. I feel stifled. I am not even a quarter of the person I had hoped to be by now. I have the right mindset and the ideas, but I seem to be missing something else that is very vital. I used to think it was money for clothes and cosmetics, but I am starting to reconsider that. Could it be that the missing component of achieving full fabulocity is some flaw within myself? I suppose I shouldn't rule anything out. Lately, I've grown attached to metaphor of life being all about trial and error. I'm not sure if I made this up or heard it somewhere, but it has been heavily on my mind this weekend. Everything, regardless of how trivial, has caused me to think of this phrase. For example, if someone were to accidentally put salt on their food instead of pepper, my immediate thought would be well, life is all about trial and error. I find this odd, even for me. I suppose it might be it's some sort of sign. Another thing I couldn't seem to escape was thoughts of him. I can't understand why I can't stop talking to him. There must be something wrong with me. I bash him and curse his life one day, feel indifferent the next, then suddenly I decide I hope things change drastically between us because I can't bear to live without him another day. At the moment, I'm stuck somewhere between wanting to give up on him completely and wanting desperately for him to love me. I feel like I've been dealing with this forever. It's been too long for my comfort. I have NEVER felt this way, for this long about anyone. I think it's safe to say that this is the longest and most ridiculous crush of my entire life. I have broken my own record. And what have I to show for it?? Exactly.. Time for bed..

Where MY love truly lies.

I am almost absolutely sure that I've said this before, but for the sake of the state of my life right now, I'll say it again: if I were given the choice between a potential love and piles of beautiful green money, I would choose money without hesitation. I am well aware that I'm much too young to give up on love. However, I am old enough to know that love isn't for me--maybe that's too brash a statement. I am old enough to know that a relationship that is anything other than platonic or familial isn't for me. At last not right now. This realization didn't shock me in the least. I kind of always knew that there's something off about me. Something that puts me at somewhat of a disadvantage(depending on your view) when it comes to dating. I've always felt like the girl who's "a good friend, but not someone to date." I don't why I'm like this. I suppose I could blame it on my attitude or my intelligence, which the opposite sex is no doubt intimidated by, but that feels too ridiculous, even for me. I used to think that I was cursed, and my appearance, or something about me kept me from being considered "girlfriend material." I have thrown away this idea. Not only because it is totally ridiculous, but also due to the fact that I've realized that I'm not the problem. Maybe this is narcissistic of me to think this way, but it is how I feel. Clearly, I am different than most girls, in more than just one way, but that is just how I am and any guy's failure to realize that this isn't a bad thing is his own fault. The point is, I'm not thinking about romance right now. Partly because no one has come along, partly because I'm too busy being obsessed with my future and fashion. Oh fashion, my first true love, my heart's desire, my reason for continuing to struggle and work toward my dreams. I would LOVE to be a photographer or photo editor for Seventeen Magazine or Vogue or Marie Claire or Vanity Fair or Harper's Bazaar. *sigh* I would just die. I would even love dressing windows for Forever21 or Urban Outfitter's. Oh, Urban Outfitter's, I want to work for you so badly. I will apply next year and I will work there. I HAVE to. So, just to recap: the only thing I will be loving right now is Fashion, Photography, and myself and I will be working in Urban Outfitter's next year. YAY!

Fuck you, asshole

You're a dick. You are a fucking dick. But it's okay. It's your loss, not mine. I'm sick of it. I don't have to take it. I don't want to be friends with you. I don't want anything to do with yyou. You are worse than all of them. At least the others had the decency to tell me something. ANYTHING. You claim that I'm one of your "best friends" and you "care" so much about me. You're such a fucking liar. I can't stand you. You never cared about me. If you did, I wouldn't feel this way. But it's okay. I swear it's okay. Because I'm fucking awesome and I deserve better than you. My REAL best friend was right, you did treat me like shit. Well, you won't anymore. You manipulative bastard. Fuck you. Fuck your whole shit. Fuck your whole life. You'll never find anyone better than me. I hope you know that. You are such an asshole. I can't wait to go to college and meet a guy who's 100000 times hotter than you. He'll be a real friend and actually love and care about me. Unlike you, who is just a fucking lying asshole. Fuck you. You're dead to me. This really is the last straw. Because this time, I told you what the problem was. I opened up and let you in. What a fucking mistake that was. I dare you to fucking text me.

Stress.

I'm very stressed out. It's showing up in my dreams and horrible headaches. When I get to a certain stress level, I completely shut down and give up. It's a really bad habit, but it's how I react. I feel a little sick. Bleh. I'm tired. I also feel a little sick. Probably because of all the candy I ate. Argh. I'm so tired. I don't know why I started this. Hopefully I have a good dream :T