When I look to the shape of the sky...

I give thanks for this hollow chest of mine.
That I no longer feel, the weight of ordeals.
That can make this life so unkind.

When you tell me that you've read the reviews for Matthew McConaughey's new movie Ghost of Girlfriends Past, I can't help but think "Uhhhh. No one cares. Go have a midlife crisis."
I'm not a horrible child, but when you've put up with everything that everyone in my family has had to put up with from my father, it seems a reasonable thought.
Dear papa,
Maybe you haven't gotten the memo. Or possibly you just refuse to believe that it's okay to get old and that you shouldn't hate the masses cause they're not as smart as you. When you randomly snap, you make no sense. And it just kind of makes everyone wish that they knew you just as everyone OUTSIDE of our family does. When I don't laugh at your jokes, it doesn't mean I hate you, it just means that the good doesn't outweigh your bad.
Right around now, I really hope you don't know shit about my blog.
If you read this. It's time to wake up. I'm ready to leave and when I do, I know you'll be happy.

I took the last of my exit level tests today, I passed all of them, I hope.
Lately, I've been a hate-monger [two word hyphenate? :S]. I've just been in hate with everyone around me. Now, I'm not the cheeriest of the bunch but these past few months, I was rarely unhappy. Whether it be the people at lunch, in the classroom, at church, or even the ones I rarely see, I can barely fight the feeling of hatred that rises in my chest. It could be that I'm tired of feeding other people's energy and needs by wanting to please others or could be that it's easier to be rude than it is to try to do anything but. Maybe I'm just getting old, maybe I just have my daddy's eyes.

On other news, fighting is trashy!
I was never taught proper etiquette when it comes to fighting but this is pretty much it for me:
Fighting is trashy!
Never start a fight but always end it.
If someone came up to me, trying to start a fight, I would NOT hit or even touch the other person. But if the other person was to even come close to hitting me, I WILL break an arm.
Everyone thinks I'm like a happy elf, but I used to be bitter and I learned how to fight then.
And with that, I say, some douche bags are trying to start fights with my friends and some with me. Who does that these days? I DON'T fight but I will do it if needed. Leave us alone assholes, don't underestimate. We are fierce, kind of like Beyonce, except I'm sure my friends are not bootylicious.

I don't care what you say, high school is frustrating.
I'm happy to be getting out next year.

On the flip side, I missed Dr. Seuss' birthday but I'm pretty much obsessed with his books, which inspire me past a point of perception.
One of my favorites is What Was I Scared Of?
The story is of the narrator being scared of a pair of pale green pants with nobody inside and their several spooky encounters. In conclusion, it's great, it's short, it's Dr. Seuss.


For your heart is like a forest, it grows,
and its the rain, but just the sun that lets it bloom,
and you don't know how it feels to be alive,
until you know how it feels to die.