So, fantastic news!

I've started school again. I cannot even began to explain how fantastically happy I am to be the first lady in my family to go to a further education school. I will be the first woman in my family to have a degree, and no words can truly express how much that means to me. I want to make my family proud of me, but more than that, I feel proud of myself.

Work is going really well. I've finally got the hours I need, and the respect that I deserve in my workplace. Gotta say that persistence and reliability has paid off, and I totally deserve the brownie points I've scored with my boss for covering so many shifts the past few months.

So that's life. Mostly just work and school.


On that note,

This is a message for you.

And sometimes I think you don't know who you are--

But if you do, and you ever read this.

I am so happy to know you, I am so happy to be called your friend, and even from this distance--

I'm shooting for you.

You are a perfect human being, mi nuevo dulcito.

To say that Harry Potter was my childhood would not be an understatement or an exaggeration out of emotional attachment, what-so-ever. If you were to get a clear picture of Lil T, you’d have to examine long afternoons of running around in Gryffindor robes, or rolled up bed sheets, shooting spells out of the backs of old paint brushes. You’d have to look at my group of friends in elementary school, on the playground in our patch of grass pretending to be at Hogwarts. You’d have to look at a lonely girl in Middle School, who spent her class periods reading Goblet of Fire from her lap at her desk.

In a big way, the Harry Potter series changed my life. The books taught me unconditional love, bravery, loyalty, to look beyond what you can see. To never trust what you believe about anyone, because people can always surprise you. to never give up, even in the face of the greatest adversity.

When I was in high school, my life changed. I lost my home, my family, and a lot of my heart to ache and depression. But through all of it, I had this wonderful book series. And when I turned each page I felt stronger, happier, better. Now, living on my own at 18 years old, there’s no one in this world I relate to better than Harry himself. My struggles are not as great, my mission is not as fantastical—but I am facing the adversity of my own life, and I am conquering it thanks to the lessons that I learned from reading the Harry Potter series.

My childhood may be over, and with this last film, I know that Harry Potter will not be continuing in the present. But it will always live on in my heart, and I will always cherish it as I cherish any of my memories, even when I am old and gray. This series means the world to me, and that is all I have to say on the subject.

“Always.”

I really want a change of scene, I think. New friends, or new clothes, or a new hair color or something. The only issues with this being that

1. I'm horrible at making and keeping friends
2. I have no money for new clothing
3. My hair is black and the effort to get it anything other than that would far exceed the nature of the results.

Maybe I'll start smoking a different brand of cigarettes. Try a new beer.

Maybe I'll take the bus to the middle of fuck all and try to find my way back again.

Hm hm hm.

Choices, options, choices.

Whatever, I'm gonna go read an article about sharks.

Sharka bra.

But I'm listening to Adele and reading through some of my old writing. And who can be unhappy when you've got Adele and nostalgia on your side? Serious question, you guys.

Just finished the Mid-season finale of South Park. What a fucking episode, right? Not at all what I was expecting and honestly kind of a huge bummer. I mean, I suspected they were ending SP after this season, but that was brutal.

Did anyone else watch it and find it kind of tacky that Trey and Matt went so far out of their way to confirm to the world that they think their own show is childish and shitty?

All of that aside, I've had a few things (people) on my mind today. I've made an executive decision--I clearly need to keep my mouth shut. Because it gets me into all sorts of trouble with the wrong people. Had several less-than-pleasant talks today that kind of woke me up from my 'love' induced stupor.

Hello, Taylor. Welcome back to Earth. You've got bills to pay and shit to take care of. What on earth were you thinking?

Can't say I don't feel the slightest bit slighted by this whole thing, can't say that I'm not frustrated by all the shit that's been laid bare today, but. Fecal matter happens, right?

In the word of Adele:

There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch, and it's bringing me out the dark
Finally I can see you crystal clear
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your shit bare
See how I'll leave with every piece of you
Don't underestimate the things that I will do

There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch
And it's bringing me out the dark

The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless
I can't help feeling
We could have had it all
Rolling in the deep

Efficiency is waking up at 830 on your day off and doing three loads of laundry, cleaning your bedroom, writing a new resume, and getting ready to pay a visit to your personal trainer.

Such is my Tuesday. Don't work again until Thursday night, and for that...I am sooooooooooooo happy.


Had the first official practice sesh with the new band. We have finally titled ourselves something sufficient.

Say hi to the tambourine player/vocalist of "Taylor Swift Army Knife". We're a folk punk band. No big deal.

Been a fucking amazing week thus far, including last weekend at Califur. Really needed the break from real life, met some really, really decent people. And made friends with some people I already knew of and had never spoken to (IC, you're fucking rad, dude).

To a certain someone in a certain city in a certain state that is far too far from where I am currently sitting, I miss you already.

To everyone else: What up, bros?

Was pretty fun.

Now excuse me while I go sleep for a thousand years.

"Night Night".

Fuck you, really. What an incredible waste of time this has been. Words cannot even begin to describe the immensity of the 'Ah, shit' that's been reverberating in my skull for the past couple of days.

I am far too old, even at eighteen, to go wasting my time and well-being like this. I childishly have pined for you and I think its high time to admit to myself that this it isn't going in any particular direction, because all possibilities end with me face first on the ground, scraping my dignity off the curb with a spatula. Fuck you, and fuck her.

And you as well, don't think I've forgotten about you. You're just as bad as him. You're responsible for all of this. I feel like a bubble that's been popped.

Over it.
Over it.
Over it.
Over you.

You are nothing to do with me.

And you? You might as well kiss off.

Your fingertips on the grand piano
Were harsh and angry and Tuesday-vexed
I waited in the foyer, I listened from a distance
The plaits in my hair and the plates in my hands
Balancing a tray on my fingertips
The way I could never balance a check book
Or arrange a party, or a flower pot

The radio hummed from the sitting room
The static like a pulse, like the paper from the type writer
When you crumpled it over your shoulder
And rubbed the space between your eyes

"They call you smokey taboo."

The more I hear about you from others the less I feel compelled to believe that there is even a fraction of you that I understand, but the more I understand that, the more I want to know every piece of you as a whole. You're like fresh apple pie on the windowsill, too hot to cut open but the smell--God, the smell of you is intoxicating.

I received the trust of your care from someone I never expected, and now I am more than certain that I am perfectly okay with my feelings towards you. I am ready for them, I embrace them.

Now if only you'd come out of hiding...

"For God's sake, dear."

I miss you.

1. Sometimes I talk just to hear my own voice. I cannot stand the sound of silence, and even if the only placation is my own breath I’ll breathe a little louder just to soothe the absolute chasm that is no sound at all.
2. I read my horoscope because it makes me feel more defined as a person.
3. I have a base appreciation for art of any kind, but mostly I tend to feel compelled towards music. Music is paramount to most other things in my life.
4. I have gender identity issues. I want to be a boy.
5. I am never entirely satisfied with the final result of my work. I find it difficult to write unless I have an immediate person who can give me feedback. I feel self-conscious as a writer, even thouh I know I’m fully capable of it. I can never finish my projects.
6. I am very intrigued by the human body, and I find the intricacies of muscles and shape to be utterly satisfying.
7. I love to read. I have always much preferred to read about fake people than to actually know real people.
8. I am attracted to people who are less emotional than I am. I enjoy the monotonous sarcastic undertones, the odd quirks, the indefinite desires.
9. I feel sometimes that I am like 5 separate people mashed clumsily together. My tastes vary on my mood, and I can go from being silent and contemplative one moment to ballsy and outrageous, to dark and brooding.
10. I have a deep-seeded desire to become glamorous.

And even though these moments are simple
Are short
Are unexceptional portions of a complete twenty-four
Hour period
Two complete turns around the clock face
I feel that they quiver
They
Quake
With the completeness of
Their reason and the exceptional breadth
Of their portions
Exceeds the breadth of the day
Which without them would seem
Very small
And
Empty
Like a white house with its curtains drawn closed
With its face all chipping away
And no smiles
In the window
Haunting
And
Quiet