?

Log in

No account? Create an account
liveanletdance
I haven't slept in the past thirty nine hours and feel officially feel like I've shoved my head into a sand box. My eyes are itching and the world around me sounds thick and fuzzy from time to time. The whole room is now in a constant spin that I've apparently gotten use to. I wonder what it will be like when I can finally sleep from longer than short ten or fifteen minute increments. Perhaps like a reverse "Trip to OZ", where my surroundings will finally stop bleeding technicolor and voices will sound human again and my cat will stop talking to me at three a.m. with a look that clearly state that she's starting to doubt my ability to care for small living things. I think it has something to do with the fact that I accidentally gave her my dog's food this morning. I don't know why she got all pissy. Bandit loved her food.

So, it's seven minutes until two in the morning and the world is quite and my brother is quiet and my cat is quiet and the neighbor across the street who spits is quiet and my brain is quiet, but it's the loudest quiet I've ever heard. It feels like my head is being compressed under water until my mind starts screaming in high-pitched frequencies it's daysweeksmonthsyears hours until it stops. And then there's the silence, which is worse then the quiet. Or maybe not. I can sleep through the silence. Not the quiet. Not the high-pitched, shrieking quiet.

I don't want pills again. My mother won't give up on pushing me to call for an appointment.

"There's nothing wrong with you."

She's lying. Four therapists, two professors, the school nurse, and every doctor i've ever had all agree.

There's something wrong with me.

And I'm sitting her in the dark, typing words that probably make no sense to anyone who bothers to read, but it's okay because I have to and I'd spend the rest of my life typing all the words out into a too-old laptop in the middle of my bedroom and two ten in the morning with a headache which makes me feel like my ears may start bleeding any minute just to relieve the pressure and that the four ibuprofen tabs haven't so much as touched since i took them thirty seven minutes ago just as long as I can feel the headache and wish for it to stop.

I'd rather have every last voice in my mind scream through the headaches that have me clawing at the pillows and reaching for my laptop to type nonsensical words than be numb again.

I don't want pills again.
 
 
Current Location: free falling
Current Mood: awake
 
 
liveanletdance
17 March 2009 @ 11:31 am
Soooooo, i basically hate my mother... yeah, that's all i wanted to say...
 
 
liveanletdance
It's really hard to see what's real anymore. Some days I'm afraid to leave my room, not willing to give my brain a chance to comprehend what's around me in ways only my oddly fucked up mind can.
 
 
Current Location: paris
Current Music: starving for attention ~
 
 
liveanletdance
08 March 2009 @ 10:27 am
eck, blah, am super bored. I went online this morning after my pilates and thought i'd check up on my online accounts and what not... only to discover that i have a little more than considered healthy... myspace, facebook, email, twitter, LJ, youtube, VF, Deviantart... god, i hope that's all. I should really go take a walk outside or something... this is sad.

On a more exciting note, i totally got the summer job i wanted!! YAY!!! that means in only a few short months I'll have a paycheck again!! man, i miss money...k, that sounds totally shallow, but it's true. me and being broke just don't go well. phil and i hate asking our parents for money.

on a completly high school girl related note, prom's apparently closer than i realized. I've already had a few girls ask me to make them prom dresses after seeing the one i made whitney for homecoming at the start of the year.


LOVE TO ALL!!!
 
 
Current Mood: boredbored
 
 
liveanletdance
14 October 2008 @ 06:00 pm

“Sure thing! One strawberry-mango-banana smoothie coming right up!”

Wide brown eyes followed the movement of the ball of energy in red rimmed glasses and a pale blue apron who smiled widely at the adorable seven dear old girl as she ordered her fruit smoothie. Brendon handed the young girl her drink in a styrofoam white cup complete with lid and bendy straw and waved as she giggled her “thank you” before trotting out the glass door, pigtails swinging. Brendon chucked as she turned and waved one last time through the glass before taking her mother’s hand and crossing the street.

Ryan kept his eyes on Brendon as he approached the counter where the pre-mentioned worker was busy with a wet rag, wiping away invisible crumbs. Brendon looked up and met Ryan’s gaze with a wide grin.

"Hi, welcome to the Smoothie Hut. What can I get for you today?" Brendon asked the pre-rehearsed question with a genuine smile that made Ryan's stomach tighten in an uncomfortable way that caused him to worry that it might drop through the floor below him.

"I'll have," Ryan pretended to peruse the menu above Brendon's head in thought, although it was pointless. he asked for the same thing every Wednesday when left work early. "a large strawberry orange smoothie with a date with you this Friday on the side."

Brendon let out a soft laugh that made Ryan's mind fuzz over for a minute. "One large strawberry orange smoothie, coming right up," Brendon turned to the short redhead working behind the counter with him and gave her the order. Ryan waited patiently as Brendon rang up Ryan's order and smoothly slid Ryan's debit card through the proper slot before handing the card back with a neatly folded receipt. A moment later Ryan was handed a large white cup.

"Here you are," Brendon said happily. Ryan took the smoothie and gave Brendon an expectant look, his eyebrow arched questioningly. Brendon leaned forward over the counter and rested on his elbows, glancing up at Ryan over red rims through thick black lashes, "And I'm visiting my sick grandmother this Friday."

Ryan nodded in mock understanding, "That's a new one," he mentioned casually.

"Well, it's good to have variety," Brendon responded in an equally nonchalant tone.

Both boys paused for a moment and simply held each other's gaze.

"Thanks for the smoothie," Ryan broke the silence, nodding to his drink in hand. He turned and made his way to the glass door. Just before the door shut behind him, he heard a soft response.

"Anytime."

~~~~~

Ryan sighed as he shut his apartment door behind him and turned the lock with a click. He shook his head and walked into the kitchen area, letting his shoulder bag drop from his body to the couch along the way. He flicked the light on, tossed the empty Styrofoam into the garbage can and reached for the refrigerator door, pulling it open to view it's contents. Pulling out a box of leftover Thai from it's depths, Ryan grabbed a fork and carried his dinner into the living room, sinking onto the couch once burgundy, now a rust, dingy red couch beside his bag. Just then, a fat grey cat leapt up from beneath it and claimed Ryan's lap.

"Hey, Dylan," Ryan mumbled, scratching the cats ears who purred contently. Once Dylan was satisfied, Ryan reached for the television remote on the table beside him. As his hand closed around the cold plastic, a red flash caught his attention. Ignoring the remote, Ryan pushed the flashing red button of his answering machine. The animatronic voice told him that he had missed four calls. The first three were from his mother which Ryan promptly deleted after the first syllable of his name.

The fourth was from his roommate.

"Hey, man, it's Jon. Just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be at Spencer's for the rest of the week, probably through Sunday. If you need anything, I've got my cell, so call or text or whatever. Actually, call me tonight. I want to hear that Brendon kid's latest rejection-"

Ryan rolled his eyes and continued to pick at the cold noodles.

"-So, yeah, I guess that's it. See you on Monday, Ry. Oh, yeah, and don't forget to feed Dylan for me. Thanks."

Ryan stuck his fork back into the cold Thai and picked up the cordless phone to dial Jon's number.

He cradled the phone against his shoulder and reached for his dinner, chewing through Jon's Caring is Creepy ringback tone.

"Hello?" came a whisper from the other end.

"-ey Jon," Ryan greeted around a mouth of food.

"Hey, Ryan, what's up?" Jon continued in a whisper.

Ryan grinned, "Am I interrupting?"

"No, I'm just- hold on," Ryan heard light shuffling from the phone and Jon's whispering of 'Hey, baby, it's just Ryan. Go back to sleep,' followed by a drowsy, 'kay,' and then silence before, "Okay, I can talk now."

Ryan snorted, "Had a busy day, Walker?"

"Hey," Jon cut in, but Ryan heard the smile in his voice, "At least I'm getting some. Unless smoothie boy...?" Jon trailed off.

"Sick grandmother," Ryan supplied.

"Uh-huh... That's a new one. I liked the dog-swallowing-his-car-keys story better."

"Dude, shut up."

Jon just laughed.

"I can't figure out why he keeps turning me down," Ryan mused while chewing, " I mean, am I too tall, too thin, too ugly-?"

"Ry, relax, you're not any of those. If anything, he's got to admire your consistency. You've asked the poor kid out every week for two months now," Jon paused, "Are you sure he's worth all this?"

"I don't know!" Ryan sounded exasperated, "That's what I'm trying to figure out! God, Jon, he's so... himself and perfect and... god, he's got these eyes the size of the fucking-"

"Moon, yeah, you've mentioned that once or twice," Jon finished. He sighed, "Alright, man. I'm just looking out for my best friend."

Ryan smiled, "Thanks." Silence spaced between the phone lines as both roommates contemplated Ryan's current two moth long and running predicament. "I'll let you get back to your boyfriend, now," Ryan spoke after a moment.

"Alright. Call me if you need anything?" Jon asked.

"Yes, mother," Ryan answered, "Tell Spencer I said 'hey',"

"Can do. See you Monday."

"Later, J-walk," Ryan hit the call end button and returned the phone to it's receiver. Setting the now empty carton onto the floor, Ryan sprawled out on the couch, letting his feet dangle over the edge. Dylan took a moment to re-adjust his own position atop Ryan's stomach before falling asleep once more.

Ryan stroked Dylan's back absentmindedly as he thought back to every Wednesday of the past two months. It all started when the usual quite high school cello player had quit his job behind the Smoothie Hut counter to go off to college and was replaced with the dark eyed bombshell that was Brendon. Brendon with his almost black, spiked hair and many colorful hoodies and perfectly fitting jeans and wonderfully dorky red glasses and contagious laughter and too wide smile and... Ryan groaned. God, he was loosing his mind! Over what? A boy he had never seen beyond the colored plastic benches and giant smoothie with a smile sign above the register that was The Smoothie Hut.

Ryan wondered why he hadn't given up on Brendon yet. One would think that, logically, after being turned down nine times now, to continue the pursuit would seem not only desperate, but embarrassing. So why does Ryan continue to ask?? Maybe it's the fact that Brendon never actually rejects him and simply has a excuse as to why Friday is unavailable.
 

A/N: Sorry about the short chapter, guys. I hope it wasn't total crap. This was beta'ed my my friend, but she's super busy with a  project for school now so I'm going to need a new one if anyone is interested. (pretty please? *battslashes* I have cookies!!)

Comments and  criticisms are greatly loved and appreciated!!!!
 
 
 
 
 
liveanletdance
30 July 2008 @ 10:46 am
I get a call from my dad back home in South Carolina telling me he was able to get my laptop fixed. I was ecstatic for about two seconds until he told me that every file saved on it was lost. That was three years of writing and over five thousand songs on my itunes account, most of which I had bought, so that REALLY sucks ass. 

I'm more upset that everything I created in my mind from the past three years, every character, every scene, every plot line, every carefully worded sentence, every phrase I spent hours into the night getting exactly right, every last letter is gone. It's missing forever. My whole created world from the past three YEARS is gone before I even realized it. I spent countless nights recording my soul onto the pack if metal and plastic, praying the wires and colored lights would protect my being and I would be able to keep every thought safe. Now all that's left is the sleek flat screen and fading plastic keys, empty of all I had spilled into it. My  existence from the last three years is officially non- existent.

The computer itself, however, is back in wonderfully working order. 

You can't write irony like that anymore.
 
 
 
Current Location: Hollywood, California
Current Mood: melancholymelancholy
Current Music: Caring is Creepy ~ The Shins
 
 
liveanletdance
19 July 2008 @ 02:42 pm
In the heart of Hollywood where the visual, physical form is the top priority of every man and woman who chooses to walk out the front door every morning, i have never felt so unworthy to wake up in the same city as other human beings before. I'm nothing like the others who thrive on the hot pavement of the city streets. I'm not blonde or thin or even half as beautiful as those around me. I can't seem to find the joy of the night life that rivals New York and LAs Vegas. All I can think of it the fact that I can't seem to stop eating and that my hair looks particularly drab and dark and that my clothes are too out of style, out of date, and all of this bad vision is wrapped up in something that is too fat, to ugly, to unglamorous to join the beauty around it.  
 
 
Current Mood: lethargiclethargic
 
 
liveanletdance
10 May 2008 @ 04:57 pm

           So, I told my parents that I'm planning to major in Creative Writing in college and minor in Musical Theatre... they were less then thrilled. My dad ranted for about an hour or so on the actual progress I'd make in life living as a struggling writer in a world that demands the average person to at least minor in business just to maintain a steady income to live off of. I let him have his soap box moment and then went to bed. This morning, though, my mother apparently thought that the best way around this was to take me shopping and have a "mother/daughter heart-to-heart" Now, I love my mom, I really do, but if there is one thing on this planet that I would not wish on even my worst enemy, it would be shopping with my mother. The entire day was wasted on being dragged from store to store only to have every article of clothing I tried on be denied on accounts of "immodesty". Everything was too tight, too low cut, too short, or too small. Now, I may not be super-model thin, but I'm a vegetarian dancer so I'm in decent shape. My mother's problem is that anything that shows my shape should be burned instead of mass produced. I left the house at ten this morning and, six hours, nine stores, two malls, and twelve or so cups of starbucks (all consumed by moi) i arrived at my house two shirts richer and a whole lot of stress richer as well.  

 
 
Current Location: my own little world
Current Mood: stressedstressed
Current Music: As Long As Your Mine - Wicked the Musical
 
 
liveanletdance
What is one thing you MUST do before you go to bed at night?
 One thing I always have to do before I sleep at night is to light a few candles and write down all the pressures and irritations and problems I feel in my diary, this way I have a chance to vent and get all my frustrations out without taking it out on my friends and my family. I know enough people who seem to always have a cynical answer to every question and a "give-me-attention" remark for every comment and I really don't want to be one of them.  
 
 
Current Mood: calmcalm
 
 
liveanletdance
15 October 2007 @ 12:32 am
So, after many, many months of thinking about  getting a live-journal, I finally got around to actually creating an account... which is weird considering the only time i could find to do this was at 12:32 am... oh, well! : D

Anyhoo, I'm just glad I now have a place to put my poems and stories and actually get some feedback, instead of just saving it on my Toshiba and praying to all things good and holy that my computer doesn't crash. 

So, yeah, that's about it. I doubt anyone will actually read this, so I'm not quite sure why I'm tying this in the first place... I guess it's for the same reason I always have; if I didn't, I'd go off the deep end.
 
 
Current Location: somewhere over the rainbow
Current Mood: curiouscurious