Stream of consciousness.

For the first time in what feels like months I actually have the chance to simply sit down (or, in this case, lie down) and spew out my random thoughts… and I have absolutely nothing to say. Hm. Isn’t it ironic how that seems to happen?

I suppose I’ll just write whatever comes to mind. Whether it makes sense or not is not really a priority for me at this point.

Sometimes when I’m driving along the freeway, I wonder how fast I would need to be going to slam through the concrete dividers and send my car careening over the hill. Sometimes I feel guilty for thinking that, other times I wish that I could just let my hand accidentally slip and see for myself what would really happen.

I never hated myself more in my life than last night, when my boyfriend looked at me with tears in eyes because of something that I did. Unintentional, but horrible nonetheless. I wanted to put a gun to my temple. I started hitting myself in the head as hard as I could with a closed fist, but he told me to stop and I couldn’t ignore his wishes. I worry that perhaps I’m not good enough for him and I’m just going to continue hurting him, physically or otherwise. I don’t want to be without him.

For me, depression is like a constrictor. It preys on me, tempting me with movements so smooth and sensual I almost cannot resist it. Then, when I’m feeling calm and partially serene it begins to wrap itself around my chest. I suspect nothing a first, but after a while I begin to feel my chest get tight and my heart begin to beat faster and faster. Then, before I can do anything, it is so tight around me that I am completely confined to its clutches, a slave to its will, its victim. I am trapped and there is nothing I can do to free myself. It will either devour me or get bored and merely slither away.

I have come to despise sleeping alone. When one gets used to pressing one’s body against another, sharing the warmth that both bodies emit, it becomes a very disheartening experience when that other body is not there.

Suddenly, few things seem very important anymore.

The past month has been one of the best of my entire life.

Being in love makes me want to be a better person.

I wish I was a better person now.

My life is incredibly empty without you.

My secret photo album.

I am ridiculously allergic to grass. While the normal person may get a few scratches and itch a bit, I have the tendency of breaking out in huge, disgusting red rashes if I have been rolling around in the grass for too long. However, when I was rolling around on the grass in Dawson’s front yard last Saturday, the last thing that was on my mind was just how much my arms were going to itch and burn the moment that we directed our attention someplace else.

It was beautiful outside. The sunlight made the trees glow and the grass (despite being the harbinger of serious allergic reactions) was pleasant to crawl around on. Dawson and I spent our time on the grass taking pictures of ourselves (because what else would you expect two vain teenagers to do with their time?). However, we’ve been meaning to get some good pictures together for a while, so I think that Saturday was certainly a success.

This is one of the pictures (and probably my favorite) of the batch that we took. I mentioned to Dawson how much I liked it because my upside down eyes look shockingly blue, but I think that Dawson’s face is far more entrancing than my eyes.

The more and more time we spend together, the simpler and more wonderful our relationship seems to become. The drama of a few months ago seems to have disappeared for the most part. We’re actually happy. Most of the time, anyway.

What more can one really ask for? The boy makes me smile.

I’d lie out in the grass forever with him and hope that the sun never sets.

Lionfish

I gotta get high
I gotta get high
I gotta get high
Give me something to shove up my nostrils
Hand me something to slam in my thigh
I’m falling victim to the temptation
Craving the sensation
Addicted to the exhilaration
The way my brain melts
Swish swish
Slosh slosh
Swish swosh slish slosh
Tiger shark, lionfish
A crazy new toxic Japanese dish
Wrapped in dried seaweed
With a side of lime
You give me a Grant
I’ll give you some time
Torn fishnet stockings
With knickers stained with white
Pretty little kitty
Come pet me just right
Cyclical, spiral, oblong obsession
Powdery subconscious and self-induced depression
Let me use you as my last concession
As I give in
Give in
Oh feel the formica
Crawling on your skin
Sweet formication
One step away from euphoric fornication
On a bed of dead, dried up leaves
Excuse me while I sneeze
Hope you don’t mind the mucous
Or the blood
Drip drip drip
Plop plop plop
Down the drain my life’s blood goes
Staining the marble
Avoiding my toes
The declaration of my emaciation
Is nothing compared to my emancipation
Freed from the confines of conversation
I gotta get high
I gotta get high
Give me a kite, and I’ll fucking fly
Higher and higher
Till the atmospheric pressure crushes my skull
Melt melt melt
My brain is a gray elixir
THIS IS YOUR BRAIN ON DRUGS
Three eggs scrambled in the cosmic frying pan that is my life.

There’s a reason why we’re Slytherins.

I thought that this was silly to write about, so I refrained from doing so for a bit. I didn’t see what the point was, really. But now it is really starting to get on my nerves so I figure that I might as well say a little something about it.

To start off, let’s give some background. I am semi-staff member for a Harry Potter RP site. I help run the Slytherin House (would you expect anything less from me?). I was elected to staff a few months ago and for a while was rather satisfied with it considering that everyone on staff with the exception of one dreadful girl was my friend. Eventually, the dreadful girl resigned from her position as Slytherin Head of House and my friend Chase took over.

Chase and the Slytherin Boy Prefect, Adam, came up with this idea for an event for the Slytherin House. Cool. Awesome. It was a good event, really it was. Supposed to go up on my birthday (May 9) as a sort of semi-celebration thing for me and just a fun event for all members of the Slytherin House to participant in. Since Chase and Adam brought this idea to the rest of the staff only a few days before the 9th, everyone was rushed into finishing their contests. Chase and Adam nagged everyone to get things done, and to the best of our ability we did. Well. I did. I suppose that I shouldn’t speak for everyone else.

The night that it was supposed to go up, Adam and Chase were MIA. Chase, apparently, got superomgsick all out of nowhere and Adam… well, I’m still not sure where the fuck Adam was. A few members of the staff, including myself, were a bit annoyed by this development and even more annoyed at the fact that when Adam did explain where everyone was he did so with an attitude. Which is understandable. I had attitude as well. For multiple reasons.

So, the next night the contests went up. Of course, that was the night of my birthday when I wasn’t around. No one informed me that they would be going up, and Chase ended up posting my contests for me. Which, while I guess it “had” to be done, was infuriating to me. I had spent so much time on the contests that I had written for their event. I wanted to be the one to show them to the rest of the Slytherin House. But, that didn’t happen. O’ course.

There were so many reasons why I was angry. Mostly I felt ignored. Which is really hard to describe, I suppose. I know that the world doesn’t revolve around me, but considering that something happened when Adam’s and Ana’s (another Slytherin Staff person) birthdays occurred, I figured that, because I was part of that group, people would care enough to do… something.

Maybe I was expecting too much. I’ll never be as close to the rest of them as they are to each other. It’s just not gonna happen that way, and I know that. Especially now. I was so angry over the whole thing that I did not contact any of them for a few days because I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I knew that if I did talk I would end up saying things that I didn’t mean. Besides, I just wanted to be happy during my birthday and the days surrounding it, and they certainly were not making me happy.

When I came back I went to apologize to Adam and Chase, since they’re the two that I probably affected the most with my tiny disappearance. Adam was accomodating, I suppose you can say. Chase wasn’t. Apparently I had just destroyed the world by disappearing. Not to mention acted like an ass, which I know that I did. Although I’ve acting like a bigger ass during my time and not gotten the reaction from Chase that I got over this whole thing.

And now no one’s really talking to me, and it makes me feel like the whole of the Slytherin Staff is against me. Which sounds extremely melodramatic, je sais. I feel like the new “dreadful” person on staff and while the title may be simply adorable it’s not the greatest feeling to be the boy that no one is all that happy with. I enjoyed being the golden boy… or at least, some nifty metalized boy. People liked me. And now I feel like with everything that’s been going on as of late no one wants anything to do with me. And it sucks, feeling alone.

I don’t know why I care. Why should I care? I shouldn’t. I should just quit and leave. I don’t need to feel ostracized like this. I don’t.

But I know that I won’t quit. I won’t because I know it would be an asshole thing to do. And even though no one on staff really needs me at all, leaving would prove nothing save that I’m a flake. I’ve never been a flake before and I really shouldn’t start now. Especially over something so stupid.

I don’t know if I really deserve this punishment.

One does not equal two.

There are a lot of things that get on my nerves. I suppose it is like that for most if not all people. You don’t know why those small little things get on your nerves but they do regardless of whether your reaction to their occurrence is logical or not. I do not know whether I’ve just been on edge lately or if I’ve just been more aware of the things going on around me, but I have been noticing a lot of those “little things” that manage to accomplish nothing but pissing me off.

Because my lover lives about thirty minutes away from me, I am often spending time on the road and observing the driving habits of people around me. While there are a number of things that people do that irk me to no end (cutting in without having the courtesy to at least use the turn signal, tailgating when one could easily just go around, not knowing the rules of the right-of-ways), for some reason the improper use of the carpool lane on freeways has been the most obvious and (while not necessarily dangerous) most annoying to me.

I think the reason why improper use of the lane annoys me is because that lane has a purpose. Whether you think that purpose is superfluous or not really doesn’t matter, because in the end your opinion of the lane’s use is irrelevant. When that cute little white diamond is painted in the lane, it means that that particular lane is reserved for vehicles that have “2 or more persons” inside of them. That’s why it’s called the carpool lane, not the “I’m a douchebag that has to drive at 90 mph in my obnoxious little car while I’m on my cell phone and not pay attention to what the fuck I’m doing or anyone else on the road” lane. I know. The names sound so similar. But rest assured, I speak truth.

Usually, if there is a carpool lane it means that there are at least three lanes for people to drive in other than the carpool lane. Why do you jackasses have to drive in a lane that wasn’t intended for you? So you can get to your destination five minutes sooner? Does it really make that much of a difference? Some higher power forbid you actually have to go anything less than 80 mph on the freeway, or simply pass on the right side of another car. Shockingly enough, this is allowed. I know. I couldn’t believe it either.

That lane was not made for you. Sorry. Wasn’t. Your imaginary friend does not count as another person. Neither does your dog, cat, the person you’re jawing to on your cell phone (or, if you’re super classy, your nifty Bluetooth), nor are you so important that you count for two people. Just not how it works. You may think that you’re insanely important, and I’m sure that to someone somewhere you are. But that doesn’t mean that you can be a dick and just zip along in lanes that you shouldn’t be in. End rant.