grey matter.

My DS came! My sudoku skills have improved massively in the last 24 hours. :)

A ghost reads my blog.
A ghost reads it the most.

life support.

I went to bed to calm my head, yet only woke up to be angry instead.
Mental breakdowns have become frequent in this household. I just lay on the floor and wrap the blankets around my head, then scream as if no one is there; it is an actual rarity for someone to ever be there.
And last night, words reverberated against my skull.
"I`ll always be there for you. No matter what."
So many people have said that to me, and I'm sure most thought they meant it.
But relationships change with the weather, and no one who had opened their arms and ears for me could be found. I called not a soul to hear my weakness. Instead, I wished for one thing ... For one single person who had promised me that they would also care for me, and always 'check' on me, would call me instead. For one moment, a single person would care more about the promise they made to me than to their own lives. It's asking for a lot, I know. But in that moment, that's all I needed. A single call, a single TEXT even, with someone worried about me (I've heard that distress can be felt amongst those closest to you).


Not a single person called.

inhuman.

Lately, it seems that everyone has come down with bouts of nostalgia, including myself. Unfortunately, I'm not quite sure what this is ... or if it even is nostalgia. We rode bikes to my 'old house' today, and a wave of sadness crashed down upon me. This was me, my old family. This was before my dad retired, and before he divorced my step-mom then made us move away. That was before my next-door neighbors killed our dog and before our other next door neighbor (Janet) built six new fences. Those are the general memories; they're vivid and bright. Other memories don't come in so brightly. They're hazy and gray, and some details seem as though I might be making them up. Where did Ashley take me that time? All I remember is a long bike ride, with a giant hill, and guys. I can't remember what made me stay away from that block, but when I think of it, the sounds of children making fun of me is there. I don't know if it is a real memory or fabricated. But, those are the memories and the times I want to return to. Not the vivid, hurtful memories, but the ones that I can't seem to see completely.

I am nostalgic for things that may not exist.
I am nostalgic for times that I may have fabricated in my mind.
Hmph.

Khloe Emmeline.

just came to a very troubling and disheartening conclusion about her life. Fuck it, like Thailand.


Many have asked what my status pertained to. It's just about how I view myself. Some people have the pleasure of looking in the mirror and loving what they see; walking out of the house on clouds that hover about the ground. I've never been that way, and after about thirty minutes, I realized ... I'll never be that way. I'm never going to look into the mirror and see someone beautiful, someone deserving of love. I'm never going to stop trying to lose that last five pounds. It's depressing to think of going the rest of my life without ever finding myself attractive. It seems like such a "teenage" problem. But, we live in a pretty shallow society where nearly everything is focused upon how you look. If you're cute, you can get discounts for movies. If you're a hot mamacita (LOL), you can get into the movies for free, and flirt your way out of speeding tickets.


Normally, I'd try and find some solution for this. But lately, it all seems like just another one of my many quirks.