regret.

Have you ever wondered which hurts the most: saying something and wishing you had not, or saying nothing, and wishing you had?

it hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let the person know how you feel.

Every time you touch me, look at me,

I hope that it's 'the' touch,

'the' look.

The one that will say you're mine.

The one that claims me, and possesses me.

It never is.

plans

We made plans to kiss the sun at night
Hopeless dreamers, hopeless types
Shedding skin you show your beauty scars
Don't forget me or who you are

You know this don't feel right
Who knows what we feel?

I just met you I can read your thoughts
What they tell me is what I want
I'll keep you guessing keep you wanting more
'Cos where we're going no one knows

You know this don't feel right
Who knows this could feel right

I just met you, I swear I read your thoughts
So don't forget me or what you want

Light up the stage, make your move, give me something
So I can dance in your light and to your rhythm

Soon it unfolds who we are in this masquerade of stars
Tear off the mask, the face you hide is what I'm missing

We made plans to kiss the sun at night
Hopeless dreamers, hopeless types
One was turning, one was standing still
I won't forget what was promised here

You know this don't feel right
Who knows what we feel? 

a scary thought.

so i had this funny thought today. what if you read this? all of it. and found out it was all about you.

that would be a little bit shit, just saying.

but it's come to notice that more people read this than i first thought, and only some of them tell me that they do.

so if you have read it at all, and have realised what a lot of the last...twenty? posts are all about...
please tell me.

thankfully i don't think you have, but just in case...

eek.

another person entirely.

something about the way you looked at me

made me think for a moment;

i got this strange feeling inside,

all confused, but hopeful at the same time.

and i looked right back,

wanting to live in that moment for a while.

why can't i ignore it?

i should know better.

are you like that with everyone?

or am i one of the special few?

i guess i'll never know.

but there's something about you.

your eyes.

yes,

there's something about your eyes;

it's as if you can see right through me,

and i into you.

we don't need no education? i think not.

In some ways, I'm glad everyone's back at school.

Because there are people out there who need it, badly. People with grammar so bloody atrocious that it makes me cringe, people who say 'no' instead of 'know.' People who decide to replace real letters with numbers, and use pointless shortcuts that really take just as much time and effort to type, text, write. 

So I wish I could not be such a spelling and grammar freak, but I'm sorry. I will never, ever, ever be able to stand it. Speak the same language as me or let me regard you as an inferior being for the rest of your life.

Of course, friends are different. I think I can handle it when you do it. That doesn't mean I wouldn't prefer you to speak properly, however...

But to everyone else...it just not gonna work u no?

Ugh.

but my heart told my head

i really have no idea what to do or say.

all i know is, that at some point, i really do hope
that i get over you and what's never going to happen.

heck, i don't even want it to.
i honestly believe that
we are completely and utterly perfect
as friends.

that's all i want.
in my head.
but my heart
tells me otherwise.

so what is this?
am i meant to give in to my feelings?
tell you, and quite possibly screw things up forever?
i don't think so.

eight miles high and falling fast.

ladididumladidida

i wish it weren't the case. because that was months and months ago.

and i know i'm most definitely over you.

pfft, i don't think i was even into you for that long.

it's not my fault

that you were the one

that introduced me

to half my favourite music.

go die.

just kidding, i'm not that heartless.

even if i did act that way with you a lot of the time.

oops.

the hills are alive with the sound of it.

so one of my aims for this holiday was to learn a few more things to play on guitar. and i do believe i have succeeded. i even have a blister on the side of my thumb to prove it...

quite honestly, i would die without music. i have to listen to at least half an hour of songs a day, i mean i even need it to go to sleep, otherwise i will lie there for hours on end with nothing but dreary thoughts to occupy my mind.

some of my more well-known favourites, from this century, include songs by muse, the killers, jet, and the arctic monkeys, among others like the strokes, the script, one republic, U2, the temper trap, snow patrol, bluejuice, keane, radiohead, franz ferdinand, band of horses, carolina liar, etc etc. i listen to almost everything, with the exception of most intense screamo that would murder my ears if it could. and don't forget justin bieber. and travis mccoy. and miley cyrus, along with all those other disney-created musical tragedies.

the thing is, i like listening to music that it seems no one has ever listened to, by people that no one seems to have heard of.

but i have to say, the best music in  my opinion is the old stuff. all that from the 60s, 70s, 80s, and early 90s.

i could listen to the rolling stones on repeat for hours. same goes for queen, r.e.m, the cure, and i do rather enjoy playing the beatles alllll day long on weekends.

i love sad songs. ones that make me think about the way things are, used to be, should be. if a song makes me cry, then it has to be a bloody good song. and songs that make me remember people and places i used to know, old memories. happy or sad.

of course i'd love to go on forever listing each individual song that i love, but going through my itunes top rated of 1269 songs, would take a little...while. so i guess i'll leave it at that.

the real fairy tales never had happy endings.

i feel like fucking cinderella. except that my dad's not dead and my stepsisters are actually related to me.

fairy godmother, find me already.

the overwhelming yearning of one human body for another particular one and its indifference to substitutes is one of life’s biggest mysteries.

return to sender.

You can't stand in the doorway, come into my room, sit on my bed, and try to force things out of me.
What do you expect me to say? You wait for an answer that isn't going to come.

Sure, I'll be more involved in the family. Once it begins to operate as one. But that starts at the top. You're meant to be the ones I look up to, that I shape myself on. I really, truly hope someone shoots me if or when I turn out anything the way you are. If the children that I most likely won't have end up looking at me the way I look at you.

I'm perfectly content in my own room, where thoughts can whirl around in my own head. My own thoughts.
I don't need you invading my space. If there's something I want to tell you, I'll tell you. Simple as that.

Then again I love keeping secrets. I love how they slowly, but surely, eat away at my insides until I can hardly take it anymore, so I can do nothing but let them escape through my eyes. You probably don't know what it feels like. Or maybe you do. I know I'm not the only one with things to hide.

The thing is, most of the secrets I keep are not kept by choice. I'd tell you, if you weren't you. If I had parents who listened, who understood, who were prepared to accept having a teenage daughter that made mistakes. One that wasn't perfect.

Don't you see? I want to make the mistakes. I want to make them for myself. It's the only way I'll learn. Warnings won't come to anything, that's down in the history books a thousand times over.

Let me be the imperfect child that does things she regrets.

Otherwise, you'll be disappointed forever.

Because I am that girl, and I always have been.