I'm going to be honest.

Yesterday, after a day of chilling out at my house, I decided to go over to my boyfriends. His name is Zach. 

After a while of giddy laughing bouts, we still kept giggling.
I definitely was thinking about my friend's big 18th birthday party I had chosen to skip, thinking, would I have as much fun at the party as I am having here, with Zach?
 Maybe. I would surely smile and push myself to find the humor in it all, but I don't think I could've smiled a smile that was as genuine as the one I had on my face last night. I was overwhelmingly, purely, happy.


And let me tell YOU something. I hate the word happy. 
I'm no cynic, but the word happy is so broad and generic, that it usually fails to have much of a meaning to me. 
But I've decided that I would define the word 'happy' on my own.
I'm thinking about last night, how I felt laying on Zach's couch, how I felt helping him build up his softball-sized rubberband ball, how I felt being in silence for a while, how I felt knowing that I would be reminded for quite a long time that had I missed the party, but I felt okay about it. Because, in all of my so-called independent selfishness, I knew that I would never have felt the way I felt that night at Zach's house, anywhere else. And I knew, subconsciously, that I couldn't get any amount of those feelings at the party. 
No matter how shocking it is to my friends, I didn't want to be anywhere else but Zach's house that night.
It's scary, yet somehow empowering, knowing that only one person can truly fill that gap, the gap that my group of friends could no longer fill even one-eighth of. 


So, if not going to all the parties and bonfires deems me a buzzkill, then I am one joyous, crazy, satisfied buzzkill.

Modesty... and maybe ignorance?

I have reached a point in my life where I'm not sure what to do anymore.
I'm slowly but surely separating from my friends, the people that took up the largest part of my life, the friends that were sometimes there for me, and sometimes weren't. 
Is natural separation inevitable? Is it preventable? Should I want to stop our separation?
I'll admit I've strayed far from the path of normalcy, in my mind of course. 
Unlike my friends, I was never very excited about going to prom, creating outfits for spirit week, gluing together tutus out of tacky red taffeta, having a huge group get together for a bonfire when we just got back from the beach after a long and hot day, or going through senior picture ideas (which included having a photo wearing your prom dress, smiling or not, and placing a freshly french manicured hand over your tanned bosom or sequined hip, as if you were of great importance.) 
I have nearly no interest in any of these activities, except maybe scoffing and laughing at these activities.
If we have just gotten back from the beach and have been there all day, chatting the day away, swimming, eating, and whatever else, I don't think I want to see you and talk to you and argue with you and complain with you about 'these damn mosquitoes' for yet another 2 hours around a hot fire.
I'm sorry, that I don't feel I deserve to be proudly posed in a photo room, sitting on an expensive stool, with my hair in bohemian waves, flaunting what I think deserves to be photographed in a professional studio.
I'd rather sit at home, or bake, or listen to music and sing, or read a good book, or write a poem, or paint my toes, or play badminton with my Mother, Father, and my highly-functioning autistic little sister.
Save the cameras for when I look absolutely terrible, sitting in the kitchen awaiting breakfast, with my hair on top of my head, my mascara flaking and smearing underneath my eyes, and my shorts pulled up to my bellybutton. 
Because at least then, I can get a good laugh.

Working Out at the Gym Sucks

I'm so tired of working out at my local gym, Fitness 19. I can't stand it anymore.
All of my friends are too lazy to come with me, even though a few of them have memberships.
I can't find a single ounce of motivation within myself. 
I don't like working out alone, I want to be pushed by a partner. 
My slowly diminishing muscles are begging to be worked again, begging to be toned.
I won't go by myself, I just won't. 
It's definitely not in my personality to say that I'm embarrassed or afraid to go alone, but in all honesty, I kind of feel that way. And it really irks me that I just said that. 
I guess I'll just continue to lay on my expensive duvet and stare at the wooden mustache above my vanity mirror. I'm feeling fabulous.

Numb.

I love when I can just 'be'.

This seems to strike me at irrelevant moments. 

I want to just be, but I can't just be. I want to be too much.

Irrelevant moments refers to times of loud, obnoxious commotion, and riveting experiences. Like when I am watching a great movie.

I want to be perfect. Angelic.

But, I am just another girl, unhinged in a crucial period.

In my earlier years, I was always told that I was spunky. I, honestly, have lost my spunk.

I'm tinged with doubt and and superficial, unrealistic platform.

I can't do it anymore.

I want to take root somewhere that I belong.

I want to be something different.

I'm so tired of the depiction that I have tried so hard to overcome.

I want to be my own creation.

I want to just be. 

Be me.

oh no!

this blog is going nowhere i don't have any followers..

so basically i'm talking to myself.

Well i guess this is where i can write my thoughts.

-worked out tonight at 9:30.

went to appleton today, definitely not satisfying, considering my friend Taylor and I drove a half an hour to go to the mall there. ehhh, not worth it.

 i would love a sweater like this one.
aren't these illustrations adorable?

dazed and confused

I'm a little upset. I, being 16 years old, don't know what I want to do for the rest of my life.
Does that sound ridiculous?
I hope it does, because I don't think that I should have to know what i want. Or know what I'm good at. Or what interests will take me some place.
Is every move I make going to determine my future indefinitely?
yeahhhhhh let's hope not.
That pisses me off. 
I want to do a bunch of things, not just one thing. Not just one career.
Other kids my age feel this way too.

Right?