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May. 16th, 2013

i cant

I don't think I have ever wanted to die more than I do right now. I just have to keep thinking about Halen. he's the reason I live. if it weren't for him. I'd be dead already.


I can't stand my family. everything is going wrong. its one thing after another. I can't take it any longer.

Jan. 11th, 2013

This Life

The first semester of my senior year in high school has come to an end. I finished my last exam today and I have tomorrow off school. I start the next term on Monday and I'm actually pretty excited about it. I tried hard this term, and although my grades don't show it, I know what I did and I'm not going to tell people otherwise. Sure, I tend to not study as much as I should. I rp during class and even sneak on tumblr. I'm a horrible student, but I always get the job done when it needs to be done. For example. My term paper for AP english was a 20 page research paper that I didn't think i would ever get done. I didn't do my best on it. I wrote it fast and I didn't have time to read over it... but I did it and that's all that fucking matters in my eyes. I did so much in one week that I thought my brain was going to explode. Senior year was always looked at as calm and relaxing. It was supposed to be the year that i figured everything out in and that I had time to spend with my friends instead of doing homework. Maybe I do have more time... maybe I should start hanging out with my friends more. But i'm so addicted to the internet that I just... don't. I don't care about going out. I don't care about talking to people. I care about role playing, writing, reading. The fucking boring stuff that I shouldn't do. Well. It isn't that much of I shouldn't do as much as it's something I feel like my character shouldn't do. I'm not the nerd. I'm not someone who gets good grades. If I do well in something, it's because I've worked my fucking ass off to get what I got. The things I do... I do them to escape the real world. I know that isn't right, but it's what I do and I don't give a shit if no one fucking likes it. That's who I am. I'm not the softball jock anymore and I wish people would stop thinking I am. I don't want to be the softball jock. I don't want to play in college. I don't want to pitch 2 times a week when I could be doing homework or writing. I want to do anything but that. No one gets that. No one understands that. I want them to understand it... but they don't. I'm so... sick and tired of being told to do something. Being told that I have to do this. Being told that I need to go to college for this. I just want to be myself... but it doesn't seem like I can. This life has never been mine, guess it still isn't.

Dec. 2nd, 2012

I Should Be Sleeping.

It floors me that I am unable to keep something that I'm on everyday of my life. I suppose that's because sometimes I just dong feel like writing about my feelings. that I don't want to say them, or even type them.


I suppose things have been better for me lately. all thongs considering. school is kind of relaxing a bit and its nice to have that break. although I have quite a bit to do tomorrow. I shouldn't leave things till Sunday but I was busy? I actually had a social life on Friday and into today. or well... yesterday. I had Heather come over and we hung out with amanda. it was fun and I needed it. I woke up today sicker than a fucking dog. I have softball in like... seven hours and I'm not sure how I'm going to breathe let alone run and bat. but I guess I'll find a way to do it because I don't exactly have a choice. My mom is pissing me off more than usual and I feel bad for snapping at her all the time but she pisses me off. I can't help but snap and yell. maybe sometime I'll talk more about her. when I'm actually on a computer and not trying my best to stay awake for no reason by posting on my phone. yay for me.

Oct. 28th, 2012

Through it all...

I just came back from the memorial service for Mr. Gramza. It wasn't like I thought it would be. I've never really had anyone I'm close to pass away before. It was difficult. I didn't want to go to it in the first place. I wanted to stay in my pj's and my bed and not move because it was too hard for me to get up. Too hard for me to go and be there even when I knew I had to go.

In the end, it was probably a good thing I went. I talked to some old teachers that knew him, and some of the old students that came back from college to pay their respects to Mr. Gramza. I got to talk to an old teacher of mine. She was my eighth grade English and Drama teacher. I find that bit of information pertinent to this story because that was exactly what Gramza was. I told her that it was actually her class that got me into English. She made me see the fun aspect of writing. The fact she made us write in a journal every day... it just. I don't know. It taught me that no matter where we are, what we were doing, what we were feeling, or any kind of thing that could get in the way; there was always a reason to write.

When I told her that... She gave me a poem. She told me how when Gramza had her as a teacher, he lost someone that was close to him. They had sat down and looked a poem. The same Poem Mrs. Hunter showed to me today. She said if I liked English so much, then I should find the deeper meaning of this poem, and if I did, it would make me feel better. I read it, and I believed her. It didn't make me smile or become instantly happy, but it made me feel better about the situation.

Death Be Not Proud
By john Donne

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

No matter how it happens or what happens or anything like that... Death isn't truly death because no one truly leaves the ones they love. So death shouldn't be so proud of what he does, because what he does isn't what he wants to do. He wants to take people away from others, but it never works. It made me feel better and I have to take her for that one. <3

Oct. 26th, 2012

In Loving Memory...

Lee Gramza was a man that could make you smile even when you're the most depressed. He had a certain aura about him that radiated energy. It was almost impossible to be around him and not want to smile. He tried to act like he was all big bad tough teacher. It never really worked. He was a brilliant actor though. We always pretended like we thought he was serious. He had an amazing voice. He wasn't afraid to sing anywhere. Thinking about him brings back memories. Good ones. I don't think there's a single memory of you in my mind that isn't a good one. You were never anything short of truly amazing.

I'm writing this because Gramza passed away on Monday night. There was a lot of fog, and he ran into a tree with his car. He wasn't found until the next morning, until it was too late. He tried calling for help... but his mother didn't know where he was, and there was no way she could have found him. Mr. Gramza was an amazing man and a good friend of mine. Even though he was my teacher, I never had him for a real class. I had him for Drama my Freshmen and Sophomore year. He was my seminar teacher for 2 full years, and what he did this year. He had health problems... and even though it was hard on him, he didn't show it. He was so strong. He was one of the strongest people I have ever had the fortune of knowing. He would tell me stories. We'd sit there and laugh at them. We'd tease each other ruthlessly. He was looking forward to the Player/teacher game this year. Last year I didn't get to pitch to him... and we were both upset about it. Now I never will. I'll never be able to pitch to him, and he'll never be able to know if he can hit off me or not. I think that's the worst knowledge of them all. That something he was looking forward to so much, will never happen because he was taken from the world before he should have been.

I love you Mr. G. You were always there for me... You and I talked about the things that I couldn't talk to most people about. You and I talked about the best things in the world. As you were sitting in your car... in your last moments... did you think of me? Think of our talks? Of anything? You were a sweet man... and I'm not sure why you were never married. You had all the kids you could want, more than that, in fact. You always said it. You deserved the happiness of love, though. You deserved that. You deserved so much, and I'm sorry you never got that. I'm sorry I couldn't give you one last hug... I'm sorry I can't turn back time and save your life, because yours means more than most other people. The world needs more people like you. Needs more kindhearted people in the world.

You will forever be in my memory. You were my favorite teacher, along with a beloved friend. I hope wherever you are right now... you're singing your heart out while you're surrounded by people that love you. I hope that you're able to play Tennis, and practice your hitting skills because whenever we meet again... you'll get that low and outside pitch.

Rest In Peace.

Mr. G.

Oct. 21st, 2012

Start with a bang.

Well. I didn't think i would have a chance to post something horrible in this right away, but life has a habit of kicking you when you least expect it. Today was supposed to be a day for family. It was supposed to be a good day. Breakfast with my mom and dad at a nice restaurant. Dinner with my grandparents and other family. It was just supposed to be a good day... The breakfast went amazing... and then. Well. Shit hit the fan.

Someone called my dads phone and it was my deaf grandpa. Shocking that it wasn't my grandpa that the doctors gave less than a year to live. Instead it was the one that just bought a brand new car. The one that was supposed to be doing good right now. He... I guess it might be a heart attack. Something along those lines. I just... I don't know what's going on. I'm scared and freaked out. I know I'm not close with this grandpa. Not in comparison to what I am with my other grandpa. It doesn't mean I don't love him... I'm just... I'm just really scared and I don't want anything to happen to him. I'm afraid he's going to... I'm afraid it's serious.

Going to the hospital. Might post later with my phone.

Wish me luck if anyone reads this. I'm not sure how much more I can take.

Oct. 20th, 2012

The Beginning...

My feelings are pent up inside my brain. The thoughts that circulate inside me make me question who I truly am anymore. I feel like I don't know who I was, who I am, or even who I'm supposed to be. My life has revolved around one thing for as long as I can possibly remember. Which isn't a lot considering most of my memories are repressed from me reliving them. I can't even remember the small things that everyone else can. It's like... I'm not myself anymore. I'm hiding more and more things from the people around me. The people that I'm supposed to love or be friends with. I'm barely social. I barely live. I don't pull myself away from the computer screen long enough for me to make any true emotions or feelings or even thoughts. I sit and write for most of it.

Maybe that's why I'm determined to make this livejournal account something I can actually keep. Something that I can come in and relieve stress when it's truly necessary. When the time comes that I can't control my emotions without telling someone. The chances of anyone reading these posts are going to be slim to none. Well... I guess I might post a fanfic or two on this account as well. Either way... most people who read this won't care about me and my petty problems.

Not all of my posts will be depressing I-want-to-cut posts. There will be some happy ones, some stressed ones, some broken hearted ones, and others. I'm a 17 year old senior in high school. I don't cut... I don't do anything to my body that can be considered suicidal, even if I've thought about it a few times in my life. It used to be worse... it used to be a life I wanted to find a way out of. Now.. it's becoming slightly better day by day.