Tonight is the horses. Tonight is with the horses. Me and the horse, preferably Brody. I'm bringing two apples just in case- one for Brody and one for whichever horse I ride. And if I am riding Brody, I'll be giving the other to Duncan. He likes me. Unless Mickey can be found. and if I'm both riding someone other than Brody and find Mickey (as would probably be the case if I'm riding Cody) then I'll give Mickey some horse treats :)

*sigh* That took my mind off of things for a little while.

I wasn't so concerned about going to riding before I was informed that Sare told Josh not to come, and instead invited Rachel to be her back up. Rachel could help her laugh and make it seem like it's a fun time. Rachel will make sure her horse is tacked up quicker. Rachel will make me hurt.

I don't even know if I'll be able to keep riding if my parents have to drive me up every week. We're getting closer and closer to debt and I can't give up my riding lessons but...

I don't know....

Here's to Silence, that cuts me to the Core.

I lost my best friend this past week. Entirely voluntary on both our parts. Twelve years, down the drain.

I wish I could say I'm completely innocent. But then again, if I was, I'd feel this was unjust and unfair and I wouldn't be standing as well as I am so far.

Don't. Don't start thinking "Well, twelve years is hard to erase, so don't worry, you'll be friends in no time."

Everyone is saying this. And though this might be true, I don't want it to be.

Yeah. You read that right. I don't want us to become friends again.

Not even a little part of you?

Yeah, there's a little part of me that says "It would be easier to be her friend. You wouldn't have to change riding, change friends, change everything. You could stay the same. Habits won't be lost."

But that's it. That habit. That habit that kept us together until we finally exploded. Until I finally exploded, and set off a chain reaction in her. And even if we do magically become friends again, I don't think our friendship was strong enough at this point in the game to get over this hurdle.  If it does, it's because of habit alone, nothing else. Maybe a little bit else.

I lost two friends in this fight, and I know I can keep standing, keep walking forward. It'll hurt- She is bringing Rachel who isn't my friend anymore either to riding. They'll laugh, they'll have a fun time. I'll be on the side of the barn that is empty.

It'll hurt. But I know I can get through it.

And everyone is saying "No no no, you'll be friends in no time."

What if I don't want to be her friend? I don't care if she didn't mean it when she said she didn't want to be mine anymore (because I was trying to fix it, and she decided to end it all together). I don't want to be her friend. And I've made it clear only to have to obscure it with fog when someone protested. I'm tired of doing that. I'm tired of being friends with her and Rachel.

I liked the parties (to a point). I liked hanging out. I liked chatting over MSN. I liked sharing books, and having sleepovers and telling secrets.

I don't want that to end. But what comes along with it- the cruel words, the harsh ones too, the feeling of being out of place, the absence of loyalty, the guilt and the anger, the hopelessness, the trapped feeling. It's not worth it. And I don't think I want it to be.

So, here's to everything coming down to nothing. Here's to twelve years- not wasted, but forfeited.

And yet, I put the sticky note containing birthday/christmas present ideas on the back of my monitor- not in the garbage.

Can someone explain that to me?


I've made someone hate me before. It was intentional on my part. I was trying to do them a favor, you know how the stories work out, right? You make someone hate you to save them from danger. You say harsh words  to have them go forward, instead of always staying in one place.

And in stories, there is some kind of recognition, I find. Like, someone knows the person saying those cruel things is just saying them to save someone else. Maybe even that person, the person who they were trying to save, finds out. They know. There's some kind of recognition, some kind of "Hey, I know what you did, and thank you. You are the best," type thing.

But in real life, that doesn't work. It just doesn't work out. People don't end up realizing what you sacrificed to save them. They don't realize that what you said hurt both you and them, as well as saved them from some kind of unknown danger, that it caused you so much pain. You go unrecognized.

Even worse, they hate you forever. They don't forgive you. They go on hating your guts because they don't see the sacrifice you made. They think you actually meant all those words, all those actions, and there's no secondary character to say Hey, wait up there, does that really sound like them?

This isn't a story, a novel, a book. There's little recognition. There's little forgiveness.
I hate all of them. Somewhere down there, I do.

They'll never change. They'll keep going the way they are, they'll never listen.

Parties I don't want to go to

-insert a ton of swearing, cursing, cussing here-

I don't want to go to a party. I don't want to lose my hearing to deafening music. I don't want to feel out of place within my friend group (again).

And yet, I'll go.

And I tell them I don't want any of this, but does it matter? Not one bit. They don't care. They know I'll come, I'll attend this party that with or without tons of booze will make me feel like an outcast around the people I'm supposed to relate with the most.

They know I'll go. That's why they ignore me. They tell themselves, hey, if she really didn't want to go she wouldn't.

Except that isn't how it works. I don't want to go, but I will only because of what I'll listen to if I don't go.

Oh, the party was so great.

And then this and that happened, and we all laughed.

And Rae fell down the stairs on her butt, and we all fell down laughing hysterically.

It was just.. awesome.

And I'd have missed it.

And you missed it. Sorry :(

Yeah. That's why I go when I don't want to.

And even if I do go, I end up hating it.

But at least I didn't miss anything, right?


Money Problems

I'm partially addicted to RainyMood.com. It's kind of soothing, really.

I'm getting back into writing and reading after months off both, and am enjoying it immensely.

I need to get a job soon, to pay for both the things I want and the part-board for the horse. We're going with Terri, our regular instructor, if she can split the 200$ for regular boarding in half so each me and Sare can part-board a horse. I have the first month's pay for it lined up, but I need another job to keep the money there. The Bakery isn't giving me enough hours to pay for the part board by itself.

I'm tempted to get a job as a cook for some fast-food place, as long as I don't have to serve customers. But for that, I need to find a place. And put a job application in. And get an interview. And get accepted after the interview.

Gah. So much work.

As well, I need to get a job as my parent's are struggling with money... So the more I bring in, the less they have to spend.


-Heart- Books

I'm so happy right now.

I finished The Hunger Games in a day and 5h (give or take, as well as helping Jenni move in today, doing a lot of stuff at Sare's yesterday, and having many annoying people and sheer exhaustion to deal with).

I'm feeling more like my old self, and it just makes me delighted. Elated. Ecstatic.

And The Hunger Games was a wonderful book.

Right now? I'm going through my post-reading habits (as of late, so for the books I've read in the past 4-5 months, which is a disturbing number- only amounting to -maybe- 4, and none read in November, December (up till the winter break, when I read two books in the span of a weekend I was so desperate, and none since)

These habits include looking up on Goodreads the spoiler comments, and Wiki'ing the book, as well as being restlessly wanting for the second book Catching Fire...


I'm off to do a happy dance.

Stressed? Naw....

I'm not all that looking forward to Friday, at the same time I am.

Friday will be the sudden big-sigh-of-relief for Quiet Week (that just so happens to be full of screaming, crying and people generally going to almost-insanity and making a ruckus about it) ends, and exams begin.

Except for, y'know, us co-op students who have no exams, just a bunch of final little things (little? Psh, big more like it) pushed together into the span of a couple of days (which SHOULD make this week easy since our last day of any co-op class is tomorrow. Oops, its midnight, so Today, but English is filling up the time Co-op would have). So till Tuesday, I'm off scott free (though I should really rein scott in as I will need him it seems to prep for my English final)

So, I'm not looking forward to Friday? Why? Why would one NOT be, when it's the first breath of freedom since (truthfully) summer? (Please note that my Winter Break wasn't that relieving, as I still had huge amounts of work to do. It just happened that I stressed so much that I ignored it all to save myself and therefore got nothing done. It's a weird way I work, get over it)

Because I remember last summer, for once.

I remember that I got out of school, and spent the first two weeks (well, post-run away) panicking because I thought "Oh NO! A project MUST be due, it has to be. Or an assignment. Shoot, what do I need to make note of to bring Monday, even though I'll probably forget it and Fisher will KILL me!"

Except, y'know... it wasn't since it was Summer and all.

So I got almost more stressed out than I usually was during school (except, again, I was having an extremely hard time trying to even pass English last semester, so my stress levels were up to a point I have yet to reach again, despite all this cramming as of late. No hyperventilation yet, so we're good!). Imagine, I'm trying to relax, everyone is, but I can't because OH. MY. GOD. An assignment that doesn't exist has a due date that I am unsure of (and doesn't exist either) needs to be handed in at school (which is closed) to a teacher (who is probably lounging on a beach chair, tanning) who will bite my head off if it's late (which because of the above, it won't be, plus she'd kill me just for interrupting her summer. And I don't know this, as I am still in school-panic mode)

And a week isn't always enough time to get out of this mode, so I don't know how much I'll be enjoying it.

So... Anyone looking forward to next week for me?

(yes, I use brackets a lot.)



So me and Sare are thinking of part-boarding a horse.

It was kind of a sudden "Let's do it!" thing, rather than a long, thought out process. But it doesn't mean we are any less determined.

Typically, around here, its about 200$ a month. Sare can't pay that much (she works at No Frills, it isn't that much, and she has other things to pay for). So out of the blue, when she told me (in Auto class, no less) I suggested we go halfsies.

Now, we can't even get info on the horse because Sare's other friend Hannah won't give us the information, claiming the horse is too rough to ride (though she told us he was a calm, beautiful, nice horse) and saying she'll set it all up. Uh, no thank you, since I haven't trusted her in a long time. I knwo she doesn't like me, and I'm not too fond of her either.

Now she's giving us small little bits that mean nothing. "Middleton rd." Yeah. There's 5 roads with Middleton in them that show up on Google Maps, as well as some out of the country. I'm getting mad and Sare won't do anything because, heck, she never does.

But Terri is trying to get us at WWS, where we normally ride, and is trying to work out how to do it since halfsies on a horse won't be the best for various reasons. So we'll probably go with Terri anyways if we can afford it.

Gah. Every time I try being neutral to Hannah, I end up wanting to punch her face in. It's much easier just to hate her and not hide that I do.

The Hallway

I don't know what the future will bring.

And it used to be that it didn't matter to me- I'd get through it easily.

And I know I'll get through it. Somehow. But now it scares me. Frightens me. Terrifies me.

I don't want to go into co-op tomorrow. Or the next two days. I want to stay home, even if I have to be awake, and bury my head deep under pillows. Ignoring that a decision has or will be made, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

It's a dark hallway I'm in. Dark doorways on either side stretching into more darkness. Emergency lights are all that illuminate, and a far-off eerie light at the end. It's more comfortable to go back, where I know there's a nice, bright waiting room with comfty chairs and good food somewhere behind me. Forward there's only a faint promise of more-to-come. What the more-to-come is, who knows?

I used to be unafraid of this type of thing. I'd go barging forward, convinced I can't go back and knowing that somewhere there's got to be a chair of some sort. Now, I don't know where that me went. Or has she gone ahead to wait for me? Did she grow impatient with my slowness of the last few months? Is that why she left me?

Should I go find her? I guess I should. I hate and love how she's forcing me to go forward. I know she cares, but I wish she'd stop being so stubborn and let me go back- I want a certainty of couches, not an eerie light that might lead to nowhere.


So maybe I'm a little slower on these things, or maybe it's because I've been 100% stress for the past three months and all I've been hearing this whole thing referred to as the "Mohawk Strike" (and as I'm not ever going to Mohawk for anything, it is marked as least concern, only on the list because my brother goes there).

I just realized that not only is this "Mohawk Strike" going to affect Ren, one of my friends who is doing half-time there next semester (or is supposed to), it's possibly going to affect me, who's planning to go to a college an hour's drive away next school year.


So. I have no idea what's going to happen. Just that a lot of people are screwed.

But if they go on strike, Ren will stay with us. Both good and bad in this situation. I'm not sure which I'd prefer.. I don't know if I want to stay another semester, even if the strike doesn't happen.

If Only

What I want to do, what I really, truly want to do, is live in a fairy tale world, even if it's not being the princess. Even if it's just being a bookseller, or baker, maybe even an urchin on the street.

Even better, I'd love to live all those lives at one time or another, even if it isn't in one of those From Rags To Riches type lives.

I could handle that. I could be there. I would love it.

But that world doesn't exist outside of story books. And while I try to be happy for the life I have in this world, this world full of concrete things, I can't help but long for such a world set out on paper.

"If only, if only..." is a phrase I often use. If only this were possible, if only I could be in a fairy tale world, if only, if only.

But usually, if only's don't happen. And even if they could, I wouldn't know where to start.

Fairy Tale Guck

I don't want to do all this work. I don't want to have to struggle just to pass. Given, it's my fault for living in La La Land since the end of October (or had I really ever gotten out of it?). Still, I'm a fairy-tale-fantasy type person. I know I need to do some real hard work to get where I want to be (castles with waving flags and dazzling butterflies, anyone?) but I always kind of thought that it would be work that I liked, you know?

How silly of me.  Whether its Once Upon A Time to Happily Ever After, or simply from point A to point B, there seems to be a lot of hauling, slipping, and mud-caked-into-pores going on. And I'm finding, for all I am into traversing the forest and mountains and fields in real life, I don't quite enjoy traveling this metaphorical slippery, muddy slope with a heavy pack on my back.

But then again, I don't know anyone who does.

So I've got to kick this donkey's ass of mine into motion, and danging the carrot right in front of my nose (except, not a carrot, as I'd not give two whits about something like that. Maybe a box of chocolates, or a passport to Where Fairy Tales Really Do Happen) and hope that I've got some sense left in this sloggy, fairy tale filled brain of mine. I swear, its like pudding right now.

Gah. Just one more fairy tale adventure, please? Just one more?


Dang. Fine. I'll get started on the real-world English assignments. I wish there was some way to add the sparkle of fantasy to these papers.



*Have you ever looked or thought about something
*and then its like
*you realize that this world we live in, the life we have, the fact that we are even HERE and we have our own FEELINGS and THOUGHTS is just a bunch of coincidences colliding?
*and that if one thiing went wrong, the world as we know it wouldn't exist?
*well, i don't think it's all just coincidences
*but i do wonder about it some times
*like, i get an ephiphany
*of "why are we here"
*that there shouldn't be anything
*but what is nothing?
*is it black space?
*it's scary
*and it only lasts like a split second
*i feel like if i was thinking about it for longer
*i might have an answer
*but i never can u__u

*I was just staring at the sky and seeing how its darker blue over here, when a few streets over its slightly lighter
*and thought about the sun
*and I'm like OMG !!!
*and all this came to me


You can't go back in time. You can't be in the past once you're in the future. All those memories you have? They'll stay memories. You won't relive them. They're lost forever.

But they'll always be a part of you, always be in you. You'll be able to remember them, smile at them, cry at them.

But you won't relive them.

And for some memories, that's a good thing.

For others, it's a very sad thing.



It's hilarious in a depressing way that I'm still.. scared? that someone will find this blog. I hate feeling like that. I should be able to write whatever I want without fear, I believe. And I'm not hurting anyone, no racial discrimination or sexist words. Just me, and my life, and what goes on around me. So here it goes, let's try this once again. After all, "If you read someone else's diary, you get what you deserve." (David Sedaris)

But... Where to start?

To open or not to open

Open the card.

Don't open the card.

Wait till friends are around.

Open it without anyone around.






A Card

My god.

How could they? Really? A card? Really??

There's no face on a card. And if there is, its not of him. There's not going to be a genuine sorry. Nothing of the type.

A card?

They missed Christmas on their own free will. They skipped out on seeing me for my birthday. They think oh, hey, we're only hurting her parents. They don't seem to think that hey, maybe they're hurting someone else. Someone who used to think of them as perfect and great and looked forward to them coming (but soon only him coming) from when the news came round they were coming to visit till the day they came. And even before that.

That someone would anticipate their return the moment they left to the moment they stepped back in, even if it was months later (which it most often was). She'd jump around. She'd tell all her friends. She'd put on a special smile just for him.

And then it all came to light. The betrayal, the lies, the accusations. The real reason behind not seeing them for years.

And I had to take down his pedestal, paint it black, then cremate it- gold and all.

And he sends me a card.

A card, days after my birthday.

And he expects me to rip it open and forgive him for all he's done? For all he's doing? For all he's about to do?

Fat chance, old man. Fat chance.

I'll glare at this wrapped token of fake whatever until it burns. And when he calls, if he asks if I opened it, I'll say no. I don't want to open anything from him.


Sympathy, Empathy. Empty.

I have a hard time... empathizing? Or even Sympathizing, really.

Yes, I know what your going through must be hard. And I guess sometimes I can really understand it, and feel sorry for you.

But a lot of the time? I can't bring myself to care all that much.

I see my friends somehow genuinely caring about me and what I'm going through, and I don't know what they're thinking, if they're meaning every word they say. And I love helping people, and making people feel better about themselves. But if you come to me really sad, more often than not I will act like I really care, but I don't feel it in my heart.

Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe there isn't.

Do I really want to know?

I don't know. I don't care.

Curious of the Dangerous

The simple idea of an abusive relationship intrigues me.

I've got a friendship that is emotionally (and once physically) abusive, and it's not fun.

But I guess I kind of see this as how I thought insomnia would be "cool". Now I have it and it's not fun at all.

Thing is, I pick the guys who are stupid, yes, but they don't hurt me a-purpose. And they generally know what no means. Generally being the operative word.

And most people would whisper "lucky" with envy. And I don't mean to insult them at all by saying it isn't. It is lucky.

I'm just ready for something new.

Something dangerous.

Something not quite right.

I don't think I'm a masochist. I'm just curious.

It's like how all my life I wanted to break my arm to get the cast and have people inquire and just have that experience. I still haven't had that experience though, so I don't know where I stand. But I don't think I'd like to have to scratch an itch with a straw...

Ah, curiosity killed the cat. Anyone doubt still that this is not my fate?



The girl that swore off dating fell into some kind of like-like pool of emotion.

Most people would laugh. I'm not sure what they'd say. "I told you so"? Or "Don't give up, stay single!"

It's not like I have time anyways, right?

But it's not like he'll like me...

Though I'm not saying I give up. Not in the least. It's just it feels impossible.

But it feels kind of good. I've been missing the ups of this. Glad I didn't have the downs.

And Now I can't say a word to my friends, because they don't care. You know how I know?

Because I didn't care when they were going through this stuff.

Karma is a bitch.

Cheer up, Am. You can get through this. And three weeks of hell.

New Blog (yet again)

So since whenever I have just one blog for everything I start getting oh-so-creative with my posts, I decided to make two. Creativity helps me become a better writer, and makes things interesting for people to read, but it doesn't always do good when trying to lay it all out and have some kind of understanding.

So, voila! (yes, I had to google the spelling on that)

Some posts may be related (probably will be...) to a post you can find on my other blog, Stealing Snowflakes.