forget me not,

Something like anticipation for a world that I know nothing about... except for the pictures that have passed over my eyes like hands petting an old cat. It snuck up on me. And now hear it is: Germany. I expect nothing. I fear nothing. I know nothing. So let these two weeks fly by in a thrilling sort of way. If speed is what you assume links itself with the word "fly," let time sneak up on me... if fate wishes it to happen that way. Help me not to forget. Forget me not.

lovey-dovey gross-ness.

eewwww. if i ever become one of those people who are either:

a) touchy-feely with my boyfriend in public
or
b) talk in such a way that could make a romance novelist puke (ie: "you hang up!" "noooo... YOU hang up! hee hee hee hee hee hee frickin HAW!"
or
c) that girl. and we all know her: "what should we talk about? how about we talk about when so and so brought me this and it was SO CUTE like ehmagawsh." (i may have done c. for that i apologize.)

you may shoot me. or slap me across the face and say "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU WOMAN?!" either one. i will probably get the point.

but really. couples can be so cute... and grazing over your boyfriend's/girlfriend's butt in public will not now, or ever, make me say "awww". it's the little things, people. the little things.

and why would you write on your boyfriends facebook wall? why? because he's probably just a phone call away from rushing over to you in a mix of adrenaline and testosterone.

really?

lesson learned: do not be that girl. or the consequences won't be very pretty... he he he...

a collection of little poems.

you little red ladder.
Rungs on this ladder have been climbed before.
I have, I believe... but no more.
Your fresh, red paint doesn't make you more appealing.
It doesn't give you better grip or more feeling.
Glossy paint makes you slippery...
only easier for those at the top.
So I simply
dropped.

probability.
Probability. 3 in four green jellybeans.
1 in four suicidal teens.
Way too many health related dreams,
Even more ripped at the seams.
So throw your water balloon into the sky,
And take a guess if it will fly,
Or be blue, or if the inevitable will come true.

sitting in the tub. (an attempt at imagism)
In the bubbling tub sat one who had the brain of a child, one who acted like a child, and one who was a child.

the blanket poem. (an attempt at free verse.)
Under my blanket,
in my own world
of stale air
and soft linen,
I am
the smartest,
prettiest,
wisest.
Nothing
is higher than my
frizzy hair,
except for the blanket
surrounding my kingdom.
All hail.

pardon my angsty teen moment.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Panic
At
The
Disco
split
up.


Possibly my favorite band. Just because their second album was really good, and they're good looking, and funny... and they had personality and spirit for life.

And they split up, damn it!!

And I never got to see them live.

Which was my dream.

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST! Looks like it's time to play their first album in remembrance.

Some fans were crying and expressing their laments on youtube and such. This i found ridiculous, but the fact remains that a very good group has split. And it feels dumb to listen to their music.

That was my album of the summer. Just yesterday i was raving about them.

2 people went a pop way, 2 of them went in a more classic rock way. The name remains with the ones who stayed pop. But i like the 2 who left more.

Aaaaaaaand no one cares. Haha. Sorry. But i had to express my deep, teen-riffic grief. So there it is. Tear.

the rush.

no. not that type of rush. not like riding a motercycle (CHECK), or watching transformers two (CHECK. emberassing?). it's that rush of emotion when you're listening to music and daydreaming as you pass thousands of trees and leave tire tracks across canada and america. the rush of remembering something that's only special to you and a few others, and smiling to yourself and wishing they were there... but not in a depressed way. just in a satisfied sigh sort of way, because you know you'll see them again someday. maybe not tomorrow, or the day after that, but sometime. soon. after you see more trees, and waste more battery on your ipod. so as i drive along, sitting still in my seat, i experience a rush that doesn't need deisel or falling from trees or planes, or whatever is there. just sucking in air... and missing something that's not too far away. just a few thousand miles or so.