What They Never Could See

My Bathroom Stall is Open- Only at Carl's Junior

2005-08-19T23:35:00.000-06:00

I like not being confined when I go to the bathroom, so when no one is around, I risk it, and leave the stall door open. It is thirty seconds of exhiliration as I urinate. You ladies should try it sometime.

Anyway, I have a new blog, so check it out because I am done here. I will no longer waste away my life in this depression. I want to get over it, so a happier atmosphere is required. It is just in time for my new life at college, so enjoy it for yourself. I do not want to deny what is here, so this will always be here, but my new life is at that blog.

Wooo hoooo.

Shhhhhhhhcheck it out eh?
Awesomeness

Well, You Definitely Proved It Matt

2005-08-14T14:57:00.000-06:00

Hey West Point, I mean Matt, why the fuck did you call today? Hmm? You are an asshole. I told you not to call and you did, then you feigned caring about me still when was really still about you.

Well you know what, I hope that every time I kiss another guy it burns you like you have done to me a thousand times over. I am so sick of the pain you cause to me, I really wish I could physically harm you.

I hate that you act like you love me just so that you can hurt me. You are the sickest person I know.

And I do, I do hate you, just so we are clear. I hate you for ever making me care about you and every fucking tear I have cried since. Since the beginning it was about you, whether you had friends, your college decision, were you ever interested in me?

You know what really stings? I'll tell you, because this memory hurts me more than most others. It was that time that you came over and took care of me after surgery and made me feel like you really cared about me. Then the next morning you used me for a bj. Yeah, so I guess speaking of below the belt. . .

By the way, I put this on my blog so that you would read it and so could anyone else that wanted to because I don't want it to be unclear to anyone how I feel about you.

You broke my heart and I hope that I never have to deal with you again. You lied to me about everything including YOUR fucking choice. I am so glad that I am out of that relationship, because you NEVER cared. I hate you so much right now it is bringing me to tears.

Have a good life, and leave me the fuck alone.

The Cycle

2005-08-14T00:36:00.000-06:00

Why do women and men continually return to someone that does not treat them right?

I think I finally discovered the answer to that question for myself. It is because we are broken, destroyed, and despite what the other person has done to us, we had given them our hearts. Yes, we can take back our hearts, but the healing is a long process that any normal human being is not ready to wait through. But, if that person can say the right thing at the right time, all of our pain is healed instantaneously.

I choose to wait through the pain. Thanks again West Point, for the valuable life lesson.

The Sweetest Thing

2005-08-13T17:24:00.000-06:00

Today I was packing to leave for college, which is quite possibly the hardest thing I have ever done. Alex, Ben, and Sean were busy filming a movie for the majority of the day and my Dad was typically absent. Later, Alex and Ben were editing the movie and had left Sean with nothing to do. At that point I was really trying to just get the job done and not let leaving my house bother me when Sean came into talk to me.

He asked, "Are you packing to leave? Isn't anyone helping you?"
"No," I said. A little bit later I mentioned that he seemed shocked about the fact that I was going about it alone.
"Well, this is a really big deal Natalie. You're leaving! It just seems like someone would be here to help, even Ian."

I had tried talking to Louie, tried to get someone to care because it is a big deal. I am freaking out over it. However, it was only Sean who. . .

"Hey! I want to at least keep you company while your packing, since no one else seems to care. Is that ok?"

He ended up giving me advice and being really sweet about what I should pack. It was the sweetest thing a guy has ever done for me without meaning to be sweet.

Today I was going to tell Mario that I liked him, but I am not going to anymore. I can't. Right now it is all too much. I am trying to handle the Matt situation with some amount of dignity intact, leave my home, and try to figure out my life. More than anything, Andrew Freyer talking to me again totally knocked me off my throne. I do not know how I really feel about anyone. I want to be loved and give in return and I feel that I am being too anxious about it and cheating myself out of the right guy, so the best thing to do is wait.

For now, all I have to say is, Thanks Sean, for the sweetest thing.

Heart-broken, Still

2005-08-12T14:41:00.000-06:00

I just want Matt to do the things he promised he would. I want him to say things that will make everything better. I want the pain to stop.

To Lie is to commit the most horrific crime you can against another human being.

I feel like that scene in Bruce Almighty, where Jennifer Aniston's character is begging God to help her not to love Bruce anymore. I want to be over him, but I am not.

I don't understand why he doesn't respond, why he walks away.

I saw myself having children with him, building a home of love with him, sleeping in his arms at night. Now all I have is my cold unforgiving reality, and endless time to pick up the pieces of my broken heart.

I didn't deserve this.

No one ever did.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOMINIC

2005-08-12T01:27:00.000-06:00

It's a phone with a-peel. . . Bananaphone, Ring Ring Ring!

2005-08-12T01:14:00.000-06:00

This is an email I sent to my best-friend tonight, in complete context, but since it was such a good summary of my life, I decided to repaste it as my blog for tonight. Enjoy!

To My Beloved Ian,
I told you, you had indicated that the hike was last week and we had a huge conversation about how I cannot do ANYTHING this Sunday because it is my last week in town. I am not going to be rude, but I am very aggravated that you do not remember the heated conversation we had in regards to this. In other words, NO, I can't go to church with you, or on a hike because I cannot go this Sunday which I already told you! I was not up for the hike when you LEFT. why would I be up for a hike I am not going to go on?

OK, I was just rude. I am very stressed, but it is no excuse. I am tired of people flaking on me, basically. Chris flaked on taking care of my tarantula. No, better description is that he flaked on hanging out with me, three nights in a row, so there is no way in hell I am trusting him with my baby Seneca.

I am hanging out with Mario this Saturday to have coffee or something, and that is very exciting.

Matt is toiling away my patience by insisting that I call him. I am not going to foot the phone bill again this year because he is too cheap himself. He can rot in hell for all I care. Come to think of it, he is, at West Point!

I have a huge bruise on my ass from cliff diving, which Dominic actually noticed before I did. Awkward that my brother was looking at my ass? I don't think so. Not in this house.

I finally got to access my CUmail account which was filled with 75 emails that told me what precise days water was going to be shut off in June, who had been chosen to be the new Dean of blah-di-blah-dah, and why the phones hadn't been working correctly on Creighton Campus for three weeks. Needless to say, they were all deleted.

I called your number today wondering if you had your new phone yet, I guess it is no luck.

Jacob had a blow out on the freeway thirty miles north of Alb. but was rescued by some Transportation Safety Inspector Guy who was doing his round right then and stumbled upon Jacob.

BTW, my church has always started at 10am.

I just thought you would like to know.

I am really broken hearted right now, crying my self to sleep and all that jazz. It's awful. I had to take my frogs to Tiffany's today which was an adventure to find because I never wrote down the directions and wasn't listening very well when she gave them to me to begin with. I was driving around Irving and Universe (west of Unser) asking myself, "Did she say two lefts and a right or second left, first right, or have I mixed up my lefts and rights completely?"

I had to be tested for Iron Deficiency today instead of going to donate blood. I guess we will see how that goes, eh?

Anyway, when do you get back? Alex is leaving Monday, so we have to steal at least one sign.

I am really pissed at Matt. What makes it worse is that I am pissed at myself for allowing myself to be pissed at Matt. How do you get pissed at someone who does not care in the slightest. I hate him is what it is. I gave him my heart and he fucked me and left me for dead. I hate him. I hate him more than my Father, who I am actually starting to get along with a little bit.

My horse got a hair cut yesterday, that was intense. I almost killed the goat after he attacked me. I am not kidding, (excuse the pun), I almost killed Billy because I just pulled him across the yard by his collar. Unfortunately, because he is so stubborn he kept pulling back meaning that he could not breath until I let go. I washed Godiva and fixed her eye snot problem. Chewie also got a bath and was really good about it.

Pibb got loose in the house today and ended up chilling with me and talking to Alex and Mario on the massage chair. He smells REALLY bad.

I guess I have digressed. I think I am just going to paste most of this into a blog for today.

Oh, I have the banana song by Raffi stuck in my head.

I hope you are well Ian. Beer Pong?

Love,
Nat

". . . I'll place a call around the world! Operator get me Bejing, jing, jing, jing!"

Heart-ache

2005-08-10T18:55:00.000-06:00

I woke up today and the first thought I had was, "Matt." I pictured him holding me, and I could almost smell him near me, but he was not.

Things don't work out the way we plan. But they work out.

I am suffering.

The lake provided some refuge via friends, a handsome distracting male who insisted one hanging out with me, and some special brownies that basically knocked me out.

I guess I am handling it well? Maybe not.

Oh well. New life. It is a new journey, and I have God with me, so take that world!

Cliff Diving

2005-08-09T21:45:00.000-06:00

On Monday I went cliff diving at the lake. Mario and Gwene took me out to a rock that jutted two stories up from the waters edge. I was terrified, but I tried not to think about it as I started my ascent. I picked my way up the steep and precarious 'trail' to the top. Most of it was simply rock climbing. I reached the top, full of adrenaline and nearly collapsed when I saw the beautiful site in front of me. I could see the amazing mountains miles away, that layered themselves in blue and purples. I could see all the way across the lake. Gwene directed me about how to complete my journey and then jumped herself.

I felt my will starting to fade. The longer I stood up there, the longer I wanted to wait before jumping. The air was clean, it was sunny and I was cool. I never wanted to leave.

"Just think, it is the way to start your college journey!" Mario urged me.

"No," I thought, "It is a way for me to free myself from constraints of my past."

"You have to yell something on the way down! Anything you can think of!" said Gwene from the water below.

All I could think of, was 'Kalpernicus.' And so even though I was too terrified to say it aloud, I thought that one word as I stepped from the edge. I stepped from the edge and fell to a new life. One where I won't have to be hurt by another person's actions. Where I wouldn't have to wait on West Point. A life where I could find dignity and respect.

The water crashed around me, and I came up sputtering. I had landed on my bottom and it had knocked the wind out of me.

I will never be able to explain what it was like, to finally take that plunge.

K
A
L
P
E
R
N
I
C
U
S
!
!
!

Waiting on West Point - III

2005-08-07T01:55:00.000-06:00

Sweets,
You said that you would never hurt me. You lied. You have hurt me like no one else ever could. I guess that makes us even.

You said you'd write me letters. You didn't. You said you'd call. You didn't. You said you'd marry me. You didn't. You said you'd catch me before I ran away. You didn't. You said you never let anyone hurt your baby, but look at me! You went with me to my mother's grave with a lie. You know how I loathe dishonesty. You ruined me. How could we have sworn on someone's grave a LIE???

Why did treat me badly? Really, I'd like to know because I didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves the way you treated me, and I was the girl of your dreams.

I was always there! Remember Hillsey's fucking project when I stayed up all night keeping you company? I gave up preparation for an election, for something I TRULY wanted. Some of us can't win with a nickname and a smile you know. Some of us had to work for it. But I guess you never understood that. Athleticism came easy to you. Along with AcaDec, listening to what your father wanted instead of your own heart, and my love.

Your family invites me to dinner, why? Because I tried to get to know them, so that maybe they would love me half as much as they love you, as I love you. My family doesn't know a thing about you. Dominic says, "I never heard him talk."

Remember all the times I helped you figure out your life? How about your two year college decision? You were NEVER there for me!

Why couldn't you just fucking apologize? No, instead you walked away. Well fine. I will be happy for you. But don't believe for one damn minute that I coming after you.

It is like those fights we used to have, where you would just walk off and shut the garage door leaving me outside with the phrase, "You know how to get in." IT WAS YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. I am not coming after you. If you think for one minute that I am, you are crazy. You are an idiot, who was never taught as a child to apologize and I cannot stand your immaturity. "You know how to get in." Yeah right! I am not going to break and enter to argue with some self-centered bastard who didn't even want to talk to me.

That's just it. You were the center, of my entire life as well. You fucking idiot, I dare you to find someone who loves you more. But that's ok. You can take that list you carry in your wallet and name all your children by it with your slave of a wife. I hope she makes you happy by following you around like a dog. That's what you wanted wasn't it? Someone to admire you relentlessly. Worship at your feet while you kicked them for no reason.

I am going off to have a great life of my own. I only hope you find the same satisfaction in your own journey.

By the way, don't you think that for one second that because I am mad right now I didn't love you. That I don't still love you. That I won't still love you. Because I did, do, and will.

But you are a moron. You were a moron. I have no reason to believe you won't be in the future.

I wish you were still Flipper. At least he still knew what it was like to be kind to others. I think I'd rather remember you like that anyway.

You did this, and you said you'd never hurt me. . . I hate you for that lie above all else.

I wish I could kick you in the shins. I wish I could rip out your hair, slap your cheek, and punch you in the stomach. But all I can do is write this goddamn blog not knowing if you will ever even read it and hate you for the pain I am going through.

I HATE YOU.

Love,
Nat

Waiting on West Point (Part II)- The Saga Continues

2005-08-05T00:46:00.000-06:00

I am so broken right now. I could not even talk to my friends about it really. I went right after my conversation with Matt to watch pictures of China and it was all I could do not to cry. Right now I am shedding my first tear.

I know it's right, and I know we both still have growing up to do, but it is heartbreaking to know that I cannot just be with the person I want to because he has something great coming in his life. I am happy knowing he has a great future ahead of him.

For the first time tonight I could not find the lyrics to a song I wanted to. Which, in case you don't know, is highly uncharacteristic of me. I have NEVER not been able to find the lyrics of a song. I am completely off.

My heart is breaking. It is like the feeling of my Great Grandmother getting cancer. You want it to work out for the best, but the best is them leaving you, and you damn well learn it even more with every single breath you take.

Ah West Point. I'm waiting for a future that is not in our fate. God speed on your journey. I will love you and I hope that you are happy in all that you do. May God grant me the prayer of taking your pain so that you will not know it as I do now.

Well, Nebraska hoy. I am terrified. I am doing this alone. Time for me to move on. I am going to fail. Hopefully I will find what I am looking for. Hopefully God will lead me. This life is not mine, it is a pilgrimage to find what God wants of me.

My Mother is inside of me. She is my strength. My hope. My pride. My will to go on. I am going to go cry.

Thank you Lord for good friends and the gift of hope. A follow up, two minutes after thanking God, I found the lyrics. There is something in prayer my friends! Here they are:

Lyrics View
Zak and Sara

Sara, spelled without an "h"
was getting bored
on a peavey amp in 1984
while Zak without a "c"
tried out some new guitars
playing Sara with no "h's"
favorite song

Zak and Sara

often Sara would have spells
where she lost time
she saw the future,
she heard voices from inside
the kind of voices
she would soon learn to deny,
because at home they got her smacked

Zak and Sara
Zak and Sara

Zak called his dad
about layaway plans
and Sara told the friendly salesman that
"You'll all die in your cars"
and "Why's it gotta be dark?",
and "You're all working in a submarine,
asshole!"

she saw the lights,
she saw a pale English face
some strange machines
repeating beats and thumping bass
visions of pills
that put you in a loving trance
that make it possible
for all white boys to dance
and when Zak finished Sara's song,
Sara clapped

Zak and Sara
Zak and Sara

yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah

Also, my friend gave me a bible verse that is very fitting tonight. Thanks Noelly.

Isaiah 42:16
"And I will bring the blind by a way [that] they knew not; I will lead them in paths [that] they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them."

Waiting on West Point

2005-08-04T15:14:00.000-06:00

I suppose it is inevitable, we all learn lessons the hard way.

For the first time ever, I am not to blame for something going badly in a relationship, and it has given me a profound new freedom that I have never experienced before. I am not to blame. Just because someone was pig-headed enough not to even TRY to understand MY life after I dedicated my time to learning about THEIR life, does not make ME a bad person.

I am way ahead of you West Point, because I know better than to blame everything on others.

You tell me you might be able to call me back on the 7th or 8th and you wonder why it is not good enough? Did you ever listen? It is not good enough because I am throwing away my life waiting for you, and I am not going to do it. I am going to be out of town on the 7th and 8th, which you might have known, had you cared enough to ask whether or not it would be ok to talk to me then, but you didn't. Thus, I'll talk to you whenever it is good for me, not before then. Maybe then you will know what the last 3 years have been like for me. I hate you for treating me like a book. You can't just pick me up whenever you feel like and expect to leave off where you were.

By the way, I will not let you weigh me down, and I will not let you hold me back. I hope that you know how much I loved/love you, and what exactly you decided to throw away by being an jerk.

The sky is beautiful today. A whole new horizon. Yeah, I see the storming brewing, but I have zipped up my jacket, and I am ready to face the unknown.

I have really big feet

2005-07-31T02:26:00.000-06:00

I have really big feet.
Some might even call them HUGE.

But that is kind of beside the point. For 18 years I have stared down at my feet, wondered about them, thinking them out of place besides everyone else's normal sized feet, but I think I am starting to like my feet. Both of them.

My Right likes to take the lead, but it would be dead in the water without My Left. When running, sometimes all I think about is how lucky I am to have been born with two working feet.

There is a little patch of hair on my big toe that I have to Nair away, (gross I know), but besides that, my toes are not nearly as ugly as I once pictured them to be.

I love my feet. I love them when they are smelly, when they are tired, when they are blistered. I love them when they get a massage, when my nails are long, and especially when I take time to cut and care for my toenails.

I love my big feet.

They are so big in fact, that I must buy men's running shoes! I love my feet for being fearless, for wearing men's clothing without discretion. I love the arch and the way they withstand going around naked any time they can.

I love putting lotion on them, I love letting them dangle into a pool of cool water. I love running across grass or snow in bare feet. I love letting them experience extreme weather. What other part of our body would we intentionally place on hot beach sand for hours at a time?

I love my awkwardly out of proportion feet, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind.

The Problem is Me

2005-07-28T00:48:00.000-06:00

The relationship is perfect, I mean, straight up, what I want for the rest of my life, P-E-R-F-E-C-T, perfect with Matt.

That's the problem.

I don't like perfect.

I am going crazy right now. I am happy that we are apart, upset that we are apart, thrilled to talk to him, dread it, all at once. I am wrecking myself over it.

In addition, I keep on having dirty dreams about someone else. I feel awful.

I want out, I never want to let go, I'M GOING MAD!
I just want it all to be over.

Everything. I am tired of this struggle we call life.

Yet I suffer through it. I basically am throwing away my bestfriend because I am freaking out in that relationship as well.

I need to be on medication.

This is out of hand.

Dominic asked me why I was so gloomy today, how do I explain 18 years of insanity?

I want to scream, I want to be locked away, I want God to take this from me, yet I am thankful to not be one of the sane.

I've lost it.

Matthew

2005-07-26T17:33:00.000-06:00

He called today, the first opportunity I had to talk with him in a few days, and it was completely awful. I was out with my Dad and if Matt had only called two minutes earlier or two minutes later I would have been able to talk, but life is not fair like that.

So Matt spits something out about how his camera is "Thoroughly Ucked" and gives me basically no explanation. It is as if he is mad at me for how his camera has been wrecked. I am not to blame, and I know that he is not trying to blame me, just frustrated. Anyway, after a short and, I must say, awkward conversation, I tell Matt that I must go but I ask if I can call me back. He says, "yeah, you can call me. . ." As in, "no, I am not going to pick up, I have better shit to do, but you can call if you want to, bitch." Now, that may be a slight over-reaction to his tone, but I haven't heard him that mad at me for no reason in a long time. It makes me want to cry.

Why did he even call if couldn't talk to me TWO minutes later?

I just don't understand. Something is terribly, terribly wrong with our relationship today, and I don't know how to fix it.

PET-not so-SMART

2005-07-21T00:55:00.000-06:00

glob
glib-glibbity
globberstorp
-_-
My mind is filled with this ruccus you insist on sending to me
OVER
some stupid intercom
work becomes a joke
when you speak in gibberish.

"They need another cashier"
Hey you, I don't ring up your shit!

Grab a fish
flops out
no surprise
I hate algae eaters!

Chris, such a distraction
damn. . .

Why do my co-workers advise the use of Cycle?
What does this product even do?
In Jesse's word,
RIDICULOUS

Tired weary, seems like 1 am, yet is 1 pm.
Exhaustion.

I miss Matthew,
Back in the family
favorite child
am i?
No, but maybe someday. . .

All these things, race through my mind-
Fucking plant tank,
clean the Bettas,
Close the sickroom
DOES IT NEVER END?

How am I to contemplate life when you fill my world with-
"Do your carry sea monkeys?"
-Say what?

For Chris

2005-07-19T00:50:00.000-06:00

I wrote a little piece, something you never did read,
though you tried hard,
you just didn't see,
that I am me,
And you are the. . .
only one, that could have saved,
Everything.

Falling,
Tragic,
This peice like magic,
off your tongue it rolls like
something sweet
you taste it
but then it falls,
hitting the ground
like that last drop of ice cream that you wanted
would have tasted the best of all
because it would have stuck to you
like glue
never gone
never alone
you would have been forever in that beautiful
sensation
moving all the time in it
you try to explain but the words fill your cheeks
a squirrel now
your words like gibberish come out your mouth
ugly vomit
you can't escape
you try
but it just can't come out
Awful rancid taste
fills,
your,
p-o-r-e-s.

All because of this
little
insignificant work that you decided you were
just
2 good 4

WOW
if only you could see
how simply it truly
not be
but is,
correct grammar
always true
but not
cuz poetry ain't about
the rules:
1. That language is real, full, and lovely.
2. Communication is vital to life.
Yet we ignore this, trying to escape
make up rules
4 on the AP,
yet I know not,
what Huchmala was preaching,
some pot perhaps
stuck in her wig
kept her high
away from my tragedy-

This work,
That you never did read.

Jealous, the tale of an ex-best-friend

2005-07-14T23:42:00.000-06:00

Ian and Nicki are always hanging out now. In addition, they are on the phone. And when they are not, Ian is at work, or I am at work, so I am just out of the picture.

It would not be so bad, but Ian has morphed into former-Ian/ Mutant of a friend. Everything is different, all that seems to happen is he gets on my nerves by just accepting his ancient role of distant friend. I mean, I have seen the boy naked for crying out loud, but I guess maybe that is the problem.

I not sure if I should just let the friendship slide, or keep hoping he'll come to his senses. Nicki isn't the problem, he is.

I am pissed.

I guess I am jealous to an extent. I took the relationship that Ian and I had for granted, because I thought it was some sort of amazingly honest friendship, but in truth, if he's not after me for a girlfriend, he's not there at all.

At least he is happy. I just can't believe I was so easily deceived.

Hey Alfred, I was best-friends with Two Face, so I guess you can just call me the Joker!

You wanna hear the ironic part? I tried to break off the friendship w/ Ian at the end of the school year, but we stuck together, best buds till the end, and he left me at the first available convenience. Well, screw that.

In addition, all during Christmas and anytime Ian needed anything I dropped everything to help him out. I ignored Kellen, Matt, Dominic, Ben, you name it, they got the shaft, because he needed help more than anyone else.

He left as soon as he was all right, he used me again! I can't believe I fell for this! I let him drag me back into depression and he pulls this on me. Go on, leave, I will not do this again. By the way, this is EXACTLY how I feel, yet again:

http://nataliespx.blogspot.com/2005/05/weeping-white-lilies.html

I don't even want to road trip anymore.

I guess I will go to bed now, nothing better to do.

Wary of Life

2005-07-04T23:14:00.000-06:00

I feel it creeping up again. It's like standing on the edge of a pool, dripping wet. It's cold up here, because I am still soaked from my swim.

I feel that Ian sometimes is trying to pull me back in to my death. He, as everyone else does, knows I can't swim. Peer Pressure. I don't want to die. But to breath like they do. Steam rising up from the warm waters, ushering me in.

All I know is, Ian and I must be a lot more careful then we were at Christmas-time. I have an idea folks, let's try not to fuck up each others lives

too much.

Happy Fourth of July.

The Ring

2005-07-04T23:01:00.000-06:00

I think I may have been tripping on anti-depressants when I wrote this on January 11th 2005 at 11:14 pm. I have NO idea where this was going. . .

I am Smeagol, no Gollum. I have become the crazed monkey like animal lusting after something beyond my grasp. Those that hold it I would kill for what I desired. Tricksy hobbits.

On my desk tonight, just next to a candle and sitting next to my car keys lays, my ring. No, THE ring. It once wrapped around a homecoming invitation from 2003. I went with Matt.

Irony

2005-07-04T22:42:00.000-06:00

December 27th, 2004 at 11:53 pm this was written. Publishing my old drafts tonight. I have no idea why I didn't publish it originally.

I am listening into your CD and I have many times wanted to tell you something.

Track 11 is you.
(Everything You Want-Vertical Horizon)
every time I hear it, I only think of you.

God I wish sometimes things were more in my control, but they are not. Please believe me Ian. You are my everything, my best-friend, the best guy I'll ever know, and yet. . .

ah life. It's ironic cruelty. I am so sorry.

Mother

2005-07-04T22:34:00.000-06:00

This was written on February 1st, 2005 at 9: 42 pm, but I never published it. So here it is.

Study session at Nathan's house last night, my mind is everywhere but on the road. I am driving safely and very aware of those around me, but I am not focused on them. The drive began with another car almost taking out the front part of Mr. Penn's station wagon, but I am back near my own neighborhood and feeling pretty safe. I pull up to a light and I am in the outer left turn lane.

Looking over my left shoulder into the inner left turn lane has a woman driving and a child in the passenger seat. It is late, almost ten, and the little girl is leaned up against the door and has her head against the glass. She is completely asleep. Studying her position of rest I think back to my own girlhood.

It seems like I wear my age as a badge or a weight. For most 18 is a gift, to me it is simply another label. I am old, but not old enough, so I keep growing. The girl lies there completely asleep. As a kid, I could never fall asleep in the car unless I was completely exhausted. Perhaps that girl is. I wonder how old she will be when she loses her innocence. I wonder how old I was when I lost mine.

I am thirty, in the body of a teenager, all I want is to escape. Freedom from my age. I want the world to know how old I truly am.

My Mother at work

2005-07-04T02:09:00.000-06:00

It is strange that after so long, I can still be injured by the things that happened in my oh so regrettable past. At 18, I am in love, I know what I want to do for a career, even where I want to live. Hell, I even have names picked out for my children. My life is coming together. Yet, it is still falling down.

Just when I thought I was free, she found me out. For life has taught me only one thing: it is when we least expect the unreal, that it comes home.

One year, five months, and three days after her death, my Mom came to visit me on the job.

A dazed drug addicted woman stumbled to me, and asked me to catch some fish for her. Immediately I knew I was going to regret having been proactive in my customer service that day. However, I grabbed my favorite net and a plastic bucket, then I tried to oblige her request. Ten minutes later, after her stumbling over her words and thinking it was the seventh of July when it was the mere thirtieth of June, hit me like a bullet. The wound I had healed over, the very one I had been covering the scar of from the world, reopened and now is infected. It was the same muttering voice, the same swaying motion of my zoned out mother, the same strewn makeup. It was the woman who I had cleaned after she wet herself, it was the woman I checked vitals on when she fell asleep during a movie, it was the woman I hated, despised, was born to raise, and inevitably killed.

I cried, in the back room, holding my sides, asking God to take the sight from out my eyes.

The woman described her daughter, a mere sophomore, and I knew it was me, the same me of my own sophomore year. I wanted to save her, to take her from there, before she became me today. God, however, in all his infinite wisdom, refused my pleading. He left his 'child' to suffer, just like I have. Why would he do this?

Because he is dead. God gave up and suffered a death like the rest of us. Not to redeem us, but simply be rid of the incredible always that he survived. If you have not recognized it by now, I quite simply hate our creator for all the sadistic things he has done to us, like curse us with free will.

Now, I write. As I write one of my closest friends is no further than 15 feet from me right now, passed out from pot and drink. I have had perhaps one cup of a weak margarita. I am sober, obsessed with my memories, and am successfully tearing myself down. What a world it is in when I can sit in my kitchen trying to escape this house, these curses that drench my soul. I am wrecked.

What makes it worse is that the people that care deeply about me can no longer understand any of the things I experience on my journey because they no longer travel with me. I tried to keep Matthew with me, hoping he would know. Now, I know that he never will. This burden I bear, to finish what my Mother started, will always be with me.

I sit here, typing my soul to no one. The remains of a broken down hookah lie on the counter next to me; a beer with a chunk of lime lies next to an empty candy wrapper. The margarita mix sits amongst salad dressing bottles and old Wendy's cups. Bagged up cat food, and Lays potato chips next to an abandoned baseball cap seem to be the brightest thing in the room. The music of my radio fills the crisp air conditioned air, and I sit barefoot amongst it all. I try to remember something beautiful, but I cannot forget the obvious. This house is wrecked. My Father will be home in less than twenty-four hours, and all I have left to do is clean up the entire house.

One thing is for sure, that after all this time, me trying to run from my ghost has only served to draw me closer to things I hate. It has brought me to her. But all the explanation behind that will take time, and that is something that I lack. Someday I will tell the world what I have seen, what I know, and they will hang me for it. With all my secrets, I am Pandora's box.

Fuck you for opening this. You could not contain your interest, and I will burn you for it. Do not misunderstand, I will LOVE seeing you cry. I will dwell in your suffering and rain blood upon your family! I will master your happiness and wreck it.

I hate you for your lives of ignorance.

Bliss. Enjoy it fuckers.

Until then, enjoy the genius of Ben Folds:
"Everbody knows, it sucks to grow up, and everybody does, it's so weird to be back here. Let me tell you what, the years go on and on and we're still fighting it. You'll try and try, and one day you'll fly, away from me."

Attracting Danger

2005-06-21T01:08:00.000-06:00

Really struggling right now. Alex is calling to me to finish what I started with her story but I never know what direction to start in. It is all in my head, just jumbled like a jigsaw puzzle.

dilemma:
If I start with the outline of her story I limit what I can say by giving myself only a certain amount of space to do it in.

If I start with the middle and work out, when do I stop?

I miss Matthew. I love him and it breaks my heart to be without him for so long.

I am glad that Ian and I are really tight still.

I am super glad that C came back. I thought for sure that she hate me for bothering her during all her struggles so I had backed off. I had been praying and hoping that she would be able to have some sort of life despite everything that bastard took from her. That is true strength. I admire her greatly.

I kinda forgot that anyone can read my blog and started writing as if noone could, and I liked writing like that. I am not longer writing to appease you, to let you know about my life, I am simply putting out what I want to, take it or leave it as you will.

One of those feelings

2005-06-16T23:38:00.000-06:00

I didn't know how to tell him before he left, but I am no longer scared of Matt leaving me. He could be on the other side of the world, and as long as he was happy and safe, I would be content to live alone. Fact is, I am terrified that he is going to die.

I got one of those feelings before Christmas, and frankly, I still believe that I was destined to die at Christmas, but something drastic changed the course of my life. Probably Ian and his situation at the time. . .

Matthew has really changed. I cannot explain how I feel about it. I am so happy, yet not giddy, not immature, but content, satisfied with splendor running o'er the rim of my cup onto my floor.

I hope nothing happens to him. Paranoia, god how I hate it.

"Making Love in the Green Grass. . ."

2005-06-13T11:11:00.001-06:00

I can only think of something that a friend of mine told me on a plane ride once, "we used to roll around for hours!" It was of course, in regards to sex.

Well, I have made love. Deep down within my being right now, there it sits. I am completely owned by this love, this commitment I have made wanting only to be with one man for the rest of my life.

Many have considered me stupid or foolish for the decisions I have made within the last week, but which is worse, being to quick too make a decision, or waiting to make one and allowing opportunity to slip me by. I tell you this now, I know what I want from life, and I know who I want my life to be spent with, I have known for years now, but have not been on my way until now.

I have known since before I could read that I wanted to be a dentist, but only now am I getting close to that goal. 18 years of waiting, I know that the good things are worth waiting for, but is it wise for me to undeclare a major when I know exactly what I want to do? No, it is not wise. So I will declare the things I know for certainty and I really do not care if you all do not feel the same.

What good are you if you do not trust that I will be safe? Have I not been safe in all my other decisions? Have I not been steadfast in them?

I am really happy right now, I just wish that many of you could feel the same.

Update on my love life:
Ryan is ok with me. We are still going to be friends.

Matthew is coming over in about five minutes, we are going to the zoo later today. He is going to come see my over Labor Day Weekend in Omaha, NE. I'm really pumped.

I love all you guys. I hope that we will still be friends in the end.

What up my home-slices?

2005-06-03T01:38:00.000-06:00

so I was looking up names for my future dog. . .Which I need to tell you about. . .But anyway, I came across this site that just had a baby's ass on it for some all natural diaper rash soup. A baby's ass! Being squeezed!

Check it out!:
http://www.babynamenetwork.com/baby_names/origin.cfm?origin=Hebrew&start_row=100

Anyway, that's all I really have for now, so time for me to go sleep.
Hasta,
Nat

Messing It All Up

2005-05-31T13:54:00.000-06:00

This morning I was in tears after another conversation with Matt. He didn't do anything to cause it, he was not him being a jerk, it was just. . .Talking to Matt. I never get to talk to him because I am always talking to his overcompensating evil half, 'Cadet Michealson.'

I am completely and totally ripped because I am not over Matthew. I never will be. Interesting that love can be totally life-changing. Even now as I continue on with my life and strive to move forward, I find myself begging myself to go after Matt. Crazy isn't it? Here I am, falling for an amazingly attractive and wonderful birder of a man, and I am still wanting my old flame back in my life.

The movie Castaway probably shows it the best. Tom Hanks strives to get back to his love only to find that she HAD to move on, so they both never get what they want. It's life laughing at us.

Love, ah, one must take it with a grain of salt and a good sense of humor.

I have thought about my situation with Ryan even more, and want to talk to him about it.

For now, all I have left to share is that watching movies from halfway through is CRAZY, especially if you do not try to. . .

Have a great day.

On the Threshold

2005-05-28T23:43:00.000-06:00

What poisoned lips that do protest my love,
What gimmick are thine eyes that taunt me with want!
Thou hath come from above,
Taming my wild heart with thy own willful boasting and protesting.

This madness thou drenches upon me,
Like rain catches my flesh,
Making me cold and in need of thee,
For warmth for salvation from this affliction.

But like a sunrise to a vampire; Thy love is what I cannot have,
Thou are the water that the desert flower seeks but cannot find,
I wait to be, to know, thy touch- like a mother for an unborn calve,

I know thou art there,
inside of me
but unreachable, like a part I will never know,
Unseeable am I, for thou does only see thee,

Madness, unmistakable inside of my actions,
I know you are driven from this,
Like a sprinter thou makes for the door,
Ah, if only I could speak of this ache. . . Tis,
Tis desire for more!

Alas, all I have sad is worth naught, for I simply
Quite so,
With all my heart,

love thee.

I do, with all my soul,

I love, oh so much so it burns like Hades within,

Thine restless blue eyes like the sky,
Thy lips like untouchable sin,
My graceful haunt, why dost thou take my dreams?
All I can think of is thy body, thy mind, thy soul!
Why will my angel not leave me to rest in peace?

Alas, I go to bed now, hoping for a sight of thee again,
For if I cannot have thee in life,
I will have thy immortal self in my fantasies.

The Start of Yet Another Life Changing Summer

2005-05-28T22:20:00.000-06:00

Before I talk to much I have to say that right now I am chilling out to a mix on my computer that is Dominic's and my creation and it is really, really, chill right now. In addition, I am really sick and was in bed trying to sleep when inspiration hit for a blog, so here I am, typing away. Enjoy!

I have been thinking about it my entire life, trying to find that perfect guy, the one that fit me. I wanted that other half, my compliment. I have found him. I have found in him everyday, I have known him my entire life, and I will never be able to explain the ways that the perfect man changes me.

I am talking about every single one of my male friends, my brothers, my dad, my grandfather, every man that I have ever known, including my enemies, including those men that I hate. They all are the perfect man. Not combined, but individually I find perfection in each of them.

I am in love with Matthew Michealson. I have been for 3 years. I always will be. I know that he is in love with me. I am really glad that I am not dating him. The people we have become are not the people we fell in love with, and will never be again. I predicted it before he took off to USMA, but he did not believe me. After a over a year of out right heart break I am not free to say that I am over him, I will never be, but as my class' song says this year, "I was changed for good." In addition I am ready to love again.

I did, and do love Ian, another man who has completely transformed my life and put up with all of my dark sides. I hate to use the Star Wars analogy, but he really was my Obi Wan when I was Anakin. He was there, pulling me from the dark side, making me realize that it was I that had killed my love. While sometimes we hate each other, we are both fighting for good, for love in this world, just sometimes we are mistaken and end up on the wrong path. A better analogy- When I became the evil Green Ranger, he was the Blue Ranger Billy who pulled me back onto the good side, back to Zandor and the fight for justice and quality children's program everywhere, especially Fox. Now, an AcaDec analogy, since Ian is the only one who really reads my blog anyway- we are like a two sun system, that is like two friends that spend a lot of time together. Not just call each other on the holidays. (I hear you groaning Ian. . .)

Ryan B. has really lit that flame for me. He just wants to be friends and get to know me better, and while at first I have to admit that I was completely crushed on the night of graduation, I am truly grateful for what has happened. He is a really fun person to hang out with, and is fast become one of my closest friends. On many things we are very agreeable, and I am so grateful for his liberal views on some subjects. In addition, he has become part of Jake's DD team, how can I not be happy for that?

I have fallen out of my wanton ways. I do not wish to be controlled by my desire for sex, for orgasm, for the bliss. Like an alcoholic, I recognized my dependence and have been clean for quite some time now. I wish I could tell you the days.

However, tonight I was called out of bed by the passion in my heart. The passion of an author, called to write, the passion of a lover, called to kiss another's lips, I was called to care for Ryan beyond friendship. I will not try and change his mind and be more than friends, but I will yearn for it. I will yearn for his arms about me, for the freedom to tell him of my love. Yes, love. That his blue eyes sing like the morning sky, sending me deep into a sense of hope that I have not had in a while. I will tell him of the things I think about when he speaks to me.

For the first time tonight I was honestly aroused, but my so-called "sexual frustration" stemmed not out of wanton physical need, but the desire to simply be one with someone I truly care about. I am not saying that I desperately want to have sex with Ryan, do not misunderstand. Instead please think of it as Ryan reawakening my innocent hope for future love, for satisfaction in a relationship with someone else, reawakened my willingness to commit to something. I do not know how long these feelings will last, but for now, I will simply enjoy them.

All men are perfect. All women are perfect. Children are truly God's gift. I can honestly say that I do not consider ANYONE, and I mean this, ugly in any physical way. To me, it is intriguing, the differences between one person to another. It is fascinating that there can be so many beautiful things in this world. I love people.

I just realized that is a very happy blog. Hmmmm, that is very uncharacteristic of me. . . I wonder who I will be after this summer. . .

An update on my life

2005-05-20T19:01:00.000-06:00

Nathan Hadsall walked back into it,
Graduation is in three days and I am oober stressed,
I am trying to catch a cat so its kittens are not euthanized,
Matt and I have had a huge falling out, I keep calling he won't call me back,
Ian and I have gone separately into the night, but still are good friends,
Andrew Freyer won't talk to me,
Sean Murray, my otro love interest, is most likely "just a friend"
But things with Ryan seem to be developing rather quickly, so I still have high hopes.

I am tired, physically and emotionally.
I got high last night and it felt SOOOOO good.

A note on Casino night:
Dirty dancing with Ryan was INTENSE, I had never been so turned on and wanting to take it SOOOO slow in my entire life. I just didn't want the torture to end.

Saw Jolene, man do I miss her. I will have to road trip at least for a weekend up to see her this summer.

I need to figure out when Matt is getting in so I can find out whether or not I am working . . . I wish he would call me so that I could patch things up with him.

In other news, I have to go, but I will try and at least put SOMETHING into my blog the next time I walk past this computer with any decent amount of time to spare.

Weeping White Lilies

2005-05-11T17:41:00.000-06:00

How can you continue to let me die?
How can you call yourself my best-friend?
How can you smile when I cry?
How can you call me your darling?
How can you let me starve while you feast tonight?
How can you try and make me feel guilty for what happened to us?
How can you hate reading so much?
How can you be so similar to me and not understand at all?
How can you let me cut these veins?
How can you leave me in my pain after everything I did for you?
How can you sleep knowing you tore my world to nothing?
How can you live knowing that you used me, whored me for your demented purposes?
How can you breath now that you stand on my chest?
How can you kick me when I am down?
How can you think I am all right?
HOW CAN YOU?
How could you rip out my still beating heart and eat it before me?
How could you beat me, bruise me to no end?
How could you sit beside me and laugh at Hamlet with Phil as I cried my eyes out?
How could you brush off the note? (For God's sake, I told you, in writing, how I wanted to die!)
How could you? Honestly,
How could you?
How could you leave me in the well alone?
How could you step on my head to escape and not throw an arm over to lift me out of this hole?
How could you be so selfish?
How could you be so thickheaded, to think you are the only one who needed help?
How could you say you loved me?
How could you lie with smooth words to my ears and stab me with your actions?
How could you leave the ONE time I really needed you?
How could you lower yourself to the excuse "I don't know what to do"?
How could you act like you were sympathetic about my Mom?
How could you let me die?

Really,

How could you?

New Blog site

2005-05-02T14:08:00.000-06:00

http://attractingdanger.blogspot.com or click on Alex's Journey on the right! It's my book in progress, so I'd LOVE some feedback if you ever have a chance.

Thanks gobs!

Love and kisses,
Nat

Buy The Good Tires

2005-05-01T23:27:00.000-06:00

I was scared to tell Matt. He's my one of my closest friends, and despite how close we are on everything else, because we are on and off ex-boy/girlfriend to each other, we usually do not discuss our other love adventures. I told him about Andrew anyway.

All weekend, all that I could think about was Andrew. It was driving me crazy. Saturday was Prom, but I did not dress for my date, I did not dress for John, even as I applied lip gloss I prayed with all my being that Andrew would decide to go to Prom, even though he did not have a date. I guiltily watched the door out of the corner of my eye, awaiting his arrival as I danced with John. With each minute another part of my heart sank. I sank deeper into my regret for having not asked him. John and I went to scour out Jacob, and as we came around the corner of the dance floor, my eyes immediately found Andrew. It was as if, subconsciously, my eyes had picked out his hair, his face, his body shape, his perfect eyes as they stared at me. I can recognize that it must have been coincidence that he happened to be looking in my direction at the exact moment I saw him, but what if, (just imagine for a moment), it was no coincidence. What if he was looking for me in the exact same way I had been looking for me? Does he care about me the way I do for him? Does he like me? Am I more than a friend to him?

Thoughts such as those had been bothering me all weekend. The hope that he feels the same way about me was too much. I was shaking to the point that I thought I was going to fall over as I walked over to where he was and said, "Glad to see you came Bratty!" He smiled up from his seat, and then turned to answer someone else's hail. I went back to the dance floor and had a great time with John.

This is all beside the point. The fact is, I am crazy about Andrew. While I love Ian, it was different with him than Andrew. With Ian, I had no hope for a relationship, so despite how I felt about him, I was able to control it. Since the time I first laid eyes on Matt, I have not felt like this. A fluttering of my heart, my stomach making me sick with anticipation. He is moving away in June, Andrew that is, but I cannot seem to stop from becoming, as Andrew warned, "Too attached."

Dare I say it to you readers? Should I speak to you, pour out the quiet pain that is eating at me now as I type? Yes, yes, I dare. You are all trustworthy.

I think I am in love. I know that it will wreck me, just in the same way love wrecked me at this time last year, but I am willing to take that risk.

I spoke to Matt about my feelings for Andrew, and rather than being angry, he was happy for me. I have never felt so glad to know Matthew. He told me a story about his parents, and how his mother encouraged his father to "buy the good tires" because she said that he probably would not buy them later. It was Matthew's way of saying that I should not wait on Andrew to act, but I should to it myself.

I did, I "bought the good tires." Andrew has agreed to go on a date or more with me. He is just worried that I may become too attached to him, as he should be. I will never be so glad to have tried. Much in the same way that I would date someone with a terminal illness, even if I knew I could only have them for a short time. "It is better to have loved than to have never loved at all."

I would have never had the courage to do so, if Ian had not bit the bullet this morning and asked out Jane. I am SOOOOOOOOO excited for him. She is a great girl. I love that kid, Ian that is, and I really hope he is happy. He deserves some happiness for once.

I came home and excitedly spilled out my news about Andrew to my Dad who was like, "Ok." More important than my Dad's reaction, however, was the show he was watching. I only caught the last two minutes of Gray's Anatomy, but the closing quote was, "It is better to make the worst most irreparable mistake than to have never have tried at all."

I guess I was shown by fate, God, whoever, that my actions were acceptable.

Do yourself a favor my friends, reread my title, then follow my advice. Always buy the good tires, you never know when you won't get that second chance.

Diddle Pud

2005-04-28T23:43:00.000-06:00

Reminded of my Mom,
The woman I never knew,
Her life in high school.

cigarette ashes burning my skin as the wind
whipping through the car
scatters my hair
making my skin feel alive.

Burned Out Headlights,
No Socks or Shoes,
Burned Out Tail light,
No Pants for me.

Four half naked girls crammed into a red mustang,
the Thursday night rush of mooning and ordering ice from Sonic
Naked,
or mostly so,
bra still on, maybe another layer or so.

All I can think is, time is weighing us down
and sooner, not later,
one of us needs to get home.

Drag of nicotine, and I am feeling high,
Toga day coming up,
and thoughts of suicide are brought back to life.
Two boys I do not want to talk to
manage to give me a call,
I push them off the line
And make my way through the rest of the day
I look at my arms, free of marks, minus the scar that reminds me
that anytime I cut, I will leave a permanent mark
so matter how I wish to destroy this body,
I cannot.

I am that broken out headlight
amongst all the other bright and happy lights
DIDDLE PUD.

Burning A Way Sick CD Right Now

2005-04-26T00:17:00.000-06:00

So, I was in a an incredibly bad mood last night, I have no explanation for it except that I am smack dab right back where I was at Christmas. I do not even know if I ever had time, nor if I ever did explain in my blog what that was like but I will attempt to explain it as I ventured closer to the inevitable death for the second time around.

Primarily, I am incapable of being happy. Even when there are things that should make me happy, they do not.

TV fuzz, a numbness of the brain, keeps me continually struggling to pay attention. I will probably go back on medication over the summer just because I know how much it will help when I am studying during college. I can see that the medication did help clearly in the difference between AcaDec Nat'ls and AcaDec State. Let me explain. Before Nat'ls I was off medication, a complete nervous wreck, and unable to concentrate. In addition I dropped to third C student for our team rather than second. At State, I was on Medication, dying from it, but able to concentrate, was not stressed out at all, managed to nab a number from a really hot soccer player, and was second C student. Obviously medication is a good thing, unless it forces you to hurt so badly that you cannot walk, like it did to me. So maybe there is something else that I can take instead.

Anyway, Ian had a rough day today. I feel bad for him, and I wish there was something more I could do for him, but right now I do not like the guy. He ratted me out to my brother, I wanted to kick his ass. Come to think of it, I am not exactly sure why I didn't. Anyway, I am sad that Matt didn't make a move to get me back, upset at the fact that Ian did, overly stressed out due to the deaths and illnesses in families that are close and semi-close to me.

The bettas are doing pretty well. The babies in particular. We cleaned out their tank today, and they are thriving in the new water. I am very glad for that.

Love never works out, I am completely broken hearted right now, and feeling completely alone at 12:22 AM, (or 00:22 for you military men, (Matt)).

I am starting a new me with college coming up and I am sad that I will be leaving the old one. High School used to be where people found their mate, found their direction, discovered themselves. Now, it is simply one more obstacle, one more stepping stone until a person can really begin that journey.

I wish I had not loved so many in High School, because then graduation would not hurt so much.
I have been asked if I am scared about going on to college, and the answer is no. It will always be no. I am not scared of going on to new things, I am afraid of leaving the old ones. Thus, the backsliding and the taking on of way too many tasks that I am not humanly possible of completing.

I walked past the stone in the gourtyard that had my Mom's name on it. I finally searched out which one it was today, and made a point to decide whether or not I liked it. I did.

It is unreal that she is gone. I am crying now, oh for the shame of it!

Well my CD is done burning so I'm going to go dance to Switch by Will Smith. TTYL.

As TMBG would say, "Your Racist Friend"

2005-04-24T23:49:00.000-06:00

Alex, my older brother, put this up on his blog recently. It was part of an email he sent to someone else, but I think that I will probably do this for my spring break or something next year, if I choose to survive that long.

"A guy I know, an RA at Weinstein named Peter Borenstein, is involved in this thing called rambling, where you basically walk from one place to another, day in an day out. Like me picking up myself right now and walking to Los Angeles. How fucking wild would that be? I only need to to know where to start, and I only need a couple of months' time..."

On a lighter note, I fucking hate people. All people. I feel completely alone. All of you deserted me and I hate you for it. It is too late for you to come back and act like you care.

WHERE WERE YOU BEFORE? WAS IT WORTH IT? Tell me honestly, will you feel no guilt when I am gone? I will haunt you in your dreams, your life, your everything. I am leaving now, before you can do it again.

I should have never trusted you, so therefore, to right a long standing wrong:
WE ARE THROUGH. DONE. KAPUT. Finé. I AM OUT.

Goodbye.

A song I heard today for the first time

2005-04-24T17:36:00.000-06:00

I Miss You Lyrics

Thought I heard your voice yesterday
when I turned around to say
(that I loved you)
I realize, it was just my mind
played tricks on me

it seems colder and lonely at night
and I try to sleep with the lights on
everytime the phone rings
I pray to god its you
I just can't believe
that we're through

I miss you
there's no other way to say it
and I can't deny it
I miss you
and its so easy to see
I miss you and me

Is it turning over this time?
Have you really changed your mind
and the feelings that we used to share?
I refuse to believe
that you don't care

I miss you
there's no other way to say it
and I can't deny it
I miss you
and its so easy to see
I miss you and me

I tried to gather myself together
I been through worst kinds of weather
if it's over now
then I'll be strong
I just can't live without you

I really need you, cause this love's true, it's driving me crazy
I really miss you, and all the things you do, I miss my baby
I really need you, cause this loves true, it's driving me crazy

"How You Can Do It if You Really Don't Want To Dance By Standing On The Wall? Get Your Back Off the Wall!"

2005-04-11T22:13:00.000-06:00

"Get down on it" by Kool and the Gang is ringing out through my computer speakers right now, and I have found that it really applies to my life right now. Basically, you cannot get anywhere if you do not try. So I am trying.

I lost my dog over the weekend.

3 major deaths in the last year. 4 life-changing deaths in the last 18 months. I am acting like it does not matter, but I really loved that dog. The other dogs are acting weird now.

I want to own a dog exactly like Penelope when I get older. I want a horse like Stormy too. That skitish young horse that doesn't know a single other riders touch except my own.

Well, I better get my back up off the wall. Time to dance. "I hope you dance." Goodnight.

Sorry For Worrying You

2005-04-07T00:12:00.000-06:00

In my last post, I did not make it clear that the person in that story was not me. Sometimes I just have things to say, people and places, feelings out of touch with reality that I just have to pen out and put someplace. That is some little boy, some innocent part of me that does not understand this world we live in. To him, it is impossible that the world could be so corrupt that even his mother would turn on him. His reality is shattered, but some naive piece, some over-ride will not let him see it.

I am multi-dimensioned, and when you read my blog, that is what you get. All the horrible little parts of me.

I just am, and I will die before I am silenced for what I believe.

I am sorry I worried you, just know that generally italics mean something is up, and it's not necessarily me, but in the future I will try and remember to warn ya'll.

Goodnight.

Home Repair

2005-04-02T10:07:00.000-07:00

She told me to stop crying, but I would not listen. I never listened, at least, that's what she always said. Mama was right, I did deserve to be punished.

Early that morning she told me to wash the dishes so i did. But she said they were not clean enough and I better "clean 'em lickety split" or else I'd get it. Well I tried, honest I did, but I kept thinking about the grumblings my stomach was making because I hadn't had no dinner the night before.

Before I knows it, she comes in and grabs me on the back of my neck and started yelling in my face. I should have focused more, I get so distracted sometimes. Well, there was this hammer sitting on the counter from Papa fixin' the cabinets last night and she plucked it off the counter and starts waving it and yelling. Next thing I know, I see the hammer coming down and I'm yelling 'NO!' but she hit me anyways. It got me on my little finger on the hand that had been sitting on the counter and I feel the pain shoot up my arm.

"I'll teach you to disobey me again!" She yelled and swung again. I tried to pull my hand away but she is holding it with her other arm and is squeezing my wrist so much I can't move it at all. This time, thanks to my pulling, it hits my finger further down near the nail and starts bleeding pretty bad.

She looked down at what she done and let's go of the hammer. It crashes to the floor and cracks the tile, the tile we ain't never supposed to wear our shoes on because it's so special. She grabs a towel and wraps it round my finger, but the blood soaks through it in no time. Next thing I know she is pulling me out of the kitchen away from the sink, but the blood drips off my fingers onto the clean dishes. I guess I will have to wash them again later.

When we're sitting in the hospital she tells me to say that my finger got caught in the door. But the doctor don't believe me, he can see the two round marks of a hammer and he is looking at me all funny. I tell him it were an accident. He sows me up and shakes his head while I repeat the story Mama put in my head. She made it sound so real now I am not even sure if she really hit me with the hammer at all or if it was just another daydream.

She gets me ice cream afterwards, and I eat it too quick because I am still hungry and my brain gets freezed. I lick it off my lips and Mama drives home all safely and quiet.

It was an accident, I think. Mama wouldn't hurt me on purpose, would she?

"I am so lonely"

2005-04-01T15:54:00.000-07:00

He utters the words from an embrace w/ me and I could not stand it. I wanted desperately to help him, but at the same time, I wanted him to feel the pain I have felt since Christmas. There really is no one out there, I have no one, and nothing left.

I am empty. Completely and utterly alone.

You know you are bad off when you wonder what it would be like to die of AIDS and actually begin hoping that the cold you have will kill you. Yeah, I wish I had cancer. I know I deserve a slap for that, but I really wish I was dying so that this would all be over and done with soon.

Just Like Old Times

2005-04-01T15:42:00.000-07:00

I am staring at the phone, waiting for a call that has not come for 3.5 hours. No, I am not really that sad, but I am sick and have nothing better to do. This cough is driving me crazy.

I was hanging out with someone I care about deeply today, and it was looking at someone and knowing that they will not dare tell you that they love you. It is looking into someone's eyes and knowing that you need them, and they still need you, but neither one of you is going to say a damn word. It hurt. I wanted to say it, but I could not bring myself too, so I just let it go.

I let people get away from me and spend time and effort on individuals who could care less whether or not I am part of their lives. I have no idea why.

Oh, before I forget, your shoe is untied! Just kidding, April Fools!

H2G2

2005-04-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is coming the theatres soon, and like any die-hard Douglas Adams fan who hates the idea of a movie being made of a great book and ruining it for those that would purchase it and read it, I will be there opening day, spouting all the differences between the movie and the book. (Aka, April 29th). In addition, I will probably dress like one of the characters in support of the BOOK not the movie. Most likely, I will be confused for a Douglas Adams fan who supports the film, but no matter, screw the ignorant.

So today I had decided that my blog entry was going to be a complaint about how I am continually surrounded by unhappy people who never do anything to better their situation and just insist on complaining about it. However, I decided to live by my own rules and change my situation. Things I am doing to improve my sorry slot in life are as follows:
-Hanging out with more positive people in order to keep myself afloat.
-Giving up on someone else being there to support me. I am destined to stand independently and suffer alone, I get that now. The consequence of this particular change in attitude is that I am losing my ability to feel love, again, because there is no reason for me to believe that others love me as I love them, and even if they did, how does that profit me? It doesn't, because no one does anything about those that they care about.
-Working hard toward my career, (which means little to nothing to me, but I have nothing better to do or care about, so I will work on it for now).
-Give up on Sex. It is a stupid physical pleasure that I cannot receive any time in the near future, and since I no longer masturbate, I will not be getting off anytime soon. Therefore, I should stop thinking about it and get over it.
-Run more in an effort to reduce stress and increase my physical well-being. In addition, it helps me drink more water and look better for when I am famous.
-Listen, even more than before, and support the people I care about even when they are being stupid.

So that about sums it up. By the time I am finished with the above steps, I will have become a cold, unfeeling, prudent, overly-indepedent, career-oriented, beautiful yet cocky, bitch.

Ah, what this world can do for those who really try and work hard. . .(sarcasm for those that did not catch on). I hate life, and I hate the fact that I face the day alone, but I only have myself. I have had only myself for the majority of my life. Perhaps I will start drinking again, that seemed to help for a long time.

I guess you caught me, I am in a really bad mood, but I cannot escape my mother. Sometimes I feel like Sophie from Carnivale, I turn the corner and there 'Mama' is. Fuck life, Fuck God, fuck existence, I am going to bed.

I hope you all find a better plan that actually gets you what you want versus just keeping you safe.

Oops, I guess I complained a little bit after all. Oh well, not like me being a liar is any new thing.

09:25 and all's well!

2005-03-30T09:23:00.000-07:00

Blood on my lips, I am drinking it all in.

Felt like writing, but am in no particular mood to say anything. I guess that this is just a ramble without a cause, yuck yuck. Get it? Like rebel w/out a cause?

Ok, nevermind.

So how come pigs can't fly? It would be cool if they could.

I need more honey for my throat, I will ttyl.

I am bothered tonight by something

2005-03-30T00:15:00.000-07:00

I begged him, "tell me you love me. . ." But he just caressed my neck. He carried on as if he never heard, convinced me to get him off and then threw me away like piece of garbage. Yet now he crawls back, begging for more because he knows I am what he wants and yet I hold it out, keeping it from him. I am not garbage, and I will never be his.

I dream of the day when I can be loved for who I am, not just for what I have between my legs.

I think of a quote made by Ryan Gosling in 'Murder By Numbers' that goes a little something like "She spreads like peanut butter. It's amazing what a girl who is ignored by her father will do for a little male attention."

I am not that girl! Fuck anyone who thinks I am easy. In addition fuck sexual frustration, as ironic as that statement is. Fuck anyone who wants to make me into what they think I am. Thus I will never again "hook it" with someone who only wants sex.

I am tired, determined, and oh so alone. I hate being touched, yet I yearn for it. I am so messed up.

Thanks Mom.

I am plagued by a vision of my mother that I am not ready to share yet. I have NEVER told ANYONE about it, and it really changed my life. It is horrible what she did, and at the same time, it is horrible what she was being forced to do. Other people have always told me that they want to "rip their eyes out" when they see something "horrible" but you do not know the vision that keeps me awake tonight, and you do not know how little good it would do to actually tear my eyes out, because I can only see it when I close my eyes.

"You love tragedy. . ." Mother's words echo in my mind, this blog of insanity, this moment of pain, keeps me awake.

I no longer want to have someone to tell, because I am not sure that what I have left is safe enough to share. I look in the mirror and I see the destruction and am attracted to it, you all are, like we turn to see the parent disciplining their child behind us at the line at the grocery store, or we open up book and read of another's suffering. We can not escape our lust of human suffering, but we can stop sharing it.

If she is able to see me, I wonder what she thinks. Is she satisfied that she has created another one like her? Is she angry at my sins? Does she miss me?

Alas, wondering this is irrelevant. She is gone, and I am left with these hauntings, these fearful spirits of her, tearing me up inside.

Dumb little "Poem," ah, the "art" of freeverse

2005-03-29T22:07:00.000-07:00

There is a crazy philosophy, spraying through
my mind
like water from a broken hydrant
and I cannot help but think that maybe I have
made
a mistake
in writing at all
but I think back to a day
when a friend told me never to stop
and so I dish out this crap
this free
f
o
r
m
poem
that says nothing
but how I know nothing of art
of how I cannot write
of how ignorant in writing I truly am

How silly I be
randoml!y th.rowing;
in pun(c)tuation
just to make my
.

Then I am horrified to find the words of
a bathroom stall
coming through
this disorder
of my mind
making some sort of order
of my mess and
clarity
comes through

I see the words
and they describe it all
PLEASE FLUSH

Like the shit I shovel through
if others just had the courtesy
to flush their own mess
then I could carry on my own life
and not have to clean up the rest.

I flush my own, in this dumb jot I have
and I post it
putting it up
and risking your critique,
but I have to say
THANX
for just being you
and letting me
still be
N-a-t-a-l-i-E

"Why are you so insecure?"

2005-03-27T02:16:00.000-07:00

"You never tell me that you love me, unless I say it first!"
"Why are you so insecure?"

When my boy posed that question earlier this evening, I could not come up w/ a response for him. I need to have people tell me that they love me because I have to work for it so frequently. I just want to be loved for me, for who I am, not for the things I do.

Perhaps it is best summed up by my conversation that I had w/ Ben a few hours after the first conversation.
"Dad and I used to watch this show all the time."
"You just watched it because you wanted Dad to like you because you could never make Mom happy."
"No. . . I liked the show."
"Yeah right. You were just kissing up."

I have spelled it out before but apparently it was not clear enough, I need constant reassurance because I was trained by my Mom's actions to constantly need it. I need others to tell me that they care, otherwise I just believe that I have not deserved it and thus am a failure. An unloved failure. Besides, I really do not feel I deserve love, so I see no reason why someone would simply love me, there must be a reason, but no one is willing to fight for me, or let me know that they love me without me reaching out first, so how am I supposed to know? I have frequently wrote letters, emails, poems, stories, and even tried my hand at painting and drawing for the ones I love, but my own mailbox is empty. I have a dream of someone, a man loving me so deeply that he would write it, he would shout it out to the world, he would come after me if I was leaving, but no one will do it. I am not worth that. I suppose, in the end, it comes down to this, my mother was right, I am unloveable and only made to serve.

I am a very insecure person, I will not deny that, but I just want love. Is that really such a crime?

The Perfect Man

2005-03-27T02:05:00.000-07:00

I saw him yesterday and I had not the opportunity to write about it until now, so here is the blog I promised ya'll.

He was standing in a line alone, silent, leaned up against a wall. He was quiet, no expression on him as he watched a little boy annoyingly proclaim every little thought that came to his under used brain. I glanced at him and found myself quickly turning my head back to look at him, unable to tear my eyes away. He was skinny, but not unhealthily so. He was definitely attractive, unblemished skin, unshaven face, longish blonde hair pulled into a short ponytail, and blue eyes. His demeanor was of someone that I would want to spend time with, and I realized all too late that he had raised his eyes and was staring back at me. He must of been somewhere in between 20-28 in age, and he was still staring at me. I looked at him, realizing that I was the only one in the room that saw his perfection. I felt as though his eyes read my mind.

'Do you know how beautiful you are?' I thought.

A slight turn of his lips that indicated a small smile.

He has a story, I know it, and I wonder if all the people he spends time with everyday know how special he is.

The thing is, it was not that he was a perfect human, he might be a complete jerk, but I saw perfection in that moment. I wonder if it is possible to see perfection in every person just as I saw in this man. It must be so. There was something beyond just a look toward another person. There was a magic I cannot describe. He was awesome in an indescribable way, and I wish that I could have captured it and given it out, like a piece of perfection that each person can hold, feel, just for a moment, and then pass it on.

From Disneyland

2005-03-26T07:08:00.000-07:00

Number of times my Dad has called me a liar: 2
Number of times my Dad has said I do not know what love is: 3
Number of times my Dad has lectured me on my grades at school: 90
Number of times Dominic has interrupted my Dad's lecture to tell me how much he hates me: aprox. 94
Number of times I have wished I could go to my own room and escape their unnecessary noise and aggravation: A HELL OF A LOT.

But I am having fun anyone. Disney is amazingly good at what they do, and it captivates me to try and even comprehend the massive number of details they have to look at the do what they do.

With that I must go.

But I will leave with a teaser for the next time I write:
I saw what, in my humble opinion, can only be described as the most perfect human being of my life. He was amazing. In addition, I know that I was not attracted to him, but just in awe of his perfection. Do you want to know why I can tell it was not attraction? Because when I am attracted to someone the first thing I notice about a person is their smile, but I did not even see his until later. It was simply his being, the way he carried himself, I will have to explain it later.

OH! Before I go, this park has made me realize something important about myself, I want to have children. I want to hold their hand as we walk down Disney's Main Street. I want to take them to the park, teach them to ride bikes and read, I want kids and all the responsibilities that come with them.

"What do you know? You're Suicidal!"

2005-03-21T00:55:00.000-07:00

The words ring out again, echoing in my memory, haunting my dreams. I can think back to Christmas, when my whole family knew that I was thinking about killing myself. Even then it was over-shadowed by Ian's chaos. I know this makes me crazy, but I was so jealous of him. I wish that I had taken my life then.

As Dominic said earlier today, "I hope that nothing else big happens with the family this week so that my broken arm can be the big thing for a while."

I just wish I was the big thing, just for a little while. If I not willing to take my own life immediately, I do not exist. Amazing. I do not exist unless I do not want to exist. Murphy's law.

I hate life. I hate this world. I hate pain, I hate everything. I hate God and I hate you, his precious beings.

No Better Than Mom

2005-03-21T00:25:00.000-07:00

After Louie and Maria left today, my Dad went right back to his old ways and flipped out on all of us. No surprise eh?

I cry and cry. . . yet no one thinks to dry my tears. I am alone.

2005-03-19T16:13:00.000-07:00

Epiphany week strikes again. I have finally figured out my life, and I still hate it.

I still want to die. How can I face my peers when I hate myself? How can I love others when I am still struggling myself? Yet I do. I still strive on.

I have lived my life in the hopes that I can save Dominic and Ben some of the pain that I have suffered, but that is all lost. They have suffered other pain, and they are still along their own paths. Dominic broke his arm and I could do nothing to aid him or stop his pain, it was completely out of my hands. That is how it is usually. I just pick up the blame. Others really do have the control.

I love Matt. I talked to him, and we hung out a little bit this week. We really are meant to be. The worst part, everyone hates us being together, and while we say it does not matter, it really does.

“I've waited all my life to cross this line
to the only thing that’s true
so I will not hide
its time to try anything to be with you
all my life I've waited
this is true” –Ryan Cabrera

He is back at West Point, and now I realize, it is still not “us.” It is not “our future” it is “our futures.” However, we both know how much we love each other, and in the end, it is not whether or not we end up together, but whether or not we gave it a fair shot. If our story really is “The Notebook” then I will be there, in New Mexico, as his Noah, waiting with a career and hope. If not, then I will move on and accept the invitation to his wedding to someone else.

As far as that goes, I have no idea what may happen. I know that for now, I do not have a boyfriend, nor am I trying to win one. I have too much to worry about.

I am failing English. Yep, that is pretty interesting.

In other news, Speech and Debate changed a lot of things about me, and this weekend has also changed me a great deal. I have decided on Creighton, I hope my Dad will help me with payments. I am pretty tired because I have not slept well for a week, less than four hours every night, but I had not told anyone. It did not matter though because I have been catching up during Theology class. Ian and my fish spawned, I have been up late every night watching that happen.

I also realized that there is no one I can count on. When I cry, I cry alone. When I fall, I must pick myself back up. I want to die. I was slipping from the edge and I thought someone, ANYONE, would catch me, but no one did. I am alone. No one can hear my screams. No one will ever be there for me, because by the time someone figures out that I need to be saved, I will have already found the strength to fight myself.

This brings me to my next point. I want to be famous; Nay, I will be famous. I want to be rich and well known. I want to be a great author, so that no one can deny my awesome gift for writing. I will be so famous that everyone who reads my words will be haunted by them. They will be propelled, motivated, to know me, but they never will. Anyone who tries to reach me will find themselves beyond my touch. I want to lose weight, I want to be beautiful so that men will look at me want to know my touch. They will love me from afar, but never be able to get close. I want to be seen as an amazing work of God’s art, so that people will wish they could say “I knew her before she was. . .” But no one will get the honor. For you see, while I will know many people and be there for them, I will trust people, as Ian would say, “no further than I could throw them.” They will wonder what goes on in my mind, what I have seen, what I would motivate me so highly, but it is simply raw revenge. By the time I am famous, even this dinky little blog will have ‘disappeared’ so that anything that I might have been at one time will be no more. My family, friends, even my spouse, will know about as much about me as the next average Joe that walks up.

Sleeping in my bed for the first time

2005-03-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

Last night, or rather, really early this morning was the first time I have ever REALLY slept in my own bed. I was not curled into a ball on the edge of my bed. I was not in fetal position as close to my alarms as I could get. Instead, I was sprawled across the middle of my huge soft bed just sinking into the matress.

This weekend blew, hard. This week at school is going to be even worse, but I do not have time to explain it right now. For now, just know this,

I have slept in my bed, finally. 5 years of ownership, and I finally know what my bed really feels like. Anyway, have to go meet my family for lunch, ttyl.

-Nat

Hummingbirds in The Freezer

2005-03-08T00:34:00.000-07:00

I just erased another blog. I hate my life. I suppose I will retype it, though doubtless it will mean nothing that it did the first time I wrote it.

I cannot stop crying. God has taken my last one. I feel as though I am one of my own fish, staring at the world through plexiglass. Everyone says they are there for me, and they are, just on the outside of my tank. But there is no contact, and they are taken a step further away with each moment.

I am 6, and Dominic is born, bringing a whirl-wind of change to the family. I love him dearly, willing from the day I see his big eyes staring up at me from his round face wrapped in a blanket to lay down my life if it is asked for. His birth also marks my independence, placing me on the first floor of the house while the rest of my family lives upstairs, two to a room. From then on they are pairs, and I am an outsider, always wishing to be part of a duo, but always alone.

I am 8, standing before my Grandmother's coffin, she is gone only a month after she promised she would always be there, and we would spend some "girl time" together. I am angry at her for lying.

Third grade, Nathan moves to Texas, I cry. My first love, my first crush, my first heartbreak, and I am but 9.

I am 13, and my great-grandmother, my idol, my symbol of perfection, passes away. Her sharpened wit is dulled by the cancer that infects her mind. I harbor my pain alone.

Louie leaves for college, and I feel even more alone as my family begins to dissipate.

High school, I must abandon all those that I trust and obtain new friends. I am terrified, but Graham helps me through. We are there for each other every few months, but never on a really consistent basis. We are in different grades, and our schedules and personal lives make it impossible to hang out, even while he lives only a mile away.

I see Matt, symbol of perfection on the first day of school, within days I am in love, or so I think. He disappears from my mind because I find that he likes Jenny Gibson, a girl I can never compare to. I am a lowly insecure slightly overweight freshman, what would he ever see in me?

Kellen finds me at this, making his entrance sound and heard.

Great-Grandpa Dunbar dies, and I can hardly take my losses. Somehow I suck it up. I wish that I could explain how beautiful old man was to me, and still is, in memory.

Matt sees something in me, and asks me out. (Take that Jenny Gibson!). I get the guy, and I want to run immediately, but Graham convinces me to stay. It is the best advice I ever listened to.

My Mom gets worse. I try and hold the family together, but I am too young still to know what to do. She pulls me out of Speech and Debate, away from the only friends I had gotten close to.

I get tumors, and I am terrified of dying. I start to give up hope because I know that what I had is the best my life will ever be. Surgery saves my life.

Mommy dies. At the funeral, Dominic and Louie pair off, a new duo, Alex and Ben stand together. Maria comes through and is there for my Dad. I am the odd one out, again.

Before I can even pull my life together, there I am in Twisters, having to sit down because I will never again see Nathan H. Perhaps I will, but it is best not to hope for it. The seminary. I knew it was coming, but my love is leaving me again. I loved him as my best-friend and not romantically, but my heart is torn out again.

Matt decides on West Point. I try and be happy, and enjoy the time we have left, but I cannot. Unlike the first time I saw him, I love him, I really love him. I just wanted him. Nothing more, nothing less, and I cannot imagine life without him. I do everything to try and convince him not to go, but he does.

I spend the summer driving Ben and Dominic around. I am empty, completely devoid of everything. I want to die. There is nothing I would love more. But Mr. Pibb stares up at me with his big brown eyes, and I cannot leave.

The Jemez. Jacob and Ian save my life in one weekend by taking me out of town. I am more happy than I have been in over a year. They change my world and give me two more reasons to keep going.

Dominic joins the list too. My cute younger brother.

I desert Matt for Ian. I want someone there, and Ian is. At the same time, Ian is so much more than that. He is my Pookie, my friend, my other half in all of our devious doings.

Kellen joins the crew and I really feel like part of something. My own crazy family.

Homecoming wrecks the mess I have made. Somewhere inside of me, I know I am supposed to be with Matt, that it was destined, but we did something to upset that. I will never be able to say if it was even our fault at all, but Matt and I will not work out. Another death in my life. Another love gone.

I manage to keep Kellen out of what I am going through. I lose him as well.

Jacob and I have a falling out, and have not been the same since.

So then there are three. Ian, Dominic, and myself.

Stormy dies. The only best-friend, my horse, that has stayed with me since third grade. I am crushed.

Dominic grows further away, and I would never dream of relying on him, but I would do whatever he needed of me anytime.

Tonight I lost Ian. The last ray of hope I had.

Sure, there is Matt, Graham, Kellen, Justin, Jolene, Crystal, Dominic, or anyone else I could beg for help if I needed it, but there is no longer a safety net below me. There is not someone waiting to grab my hand and pull me back up if I start to fall. I am my own keeper. No even comments here anymore, except Crystal who only knows me through this site, who knows if you are even still reading?

Damn plexiglass. At least this way I get to see that they are all happy. I collapse into a corner and try to cry myself to sleep.

Insomnia is back. Great, now I have more hours by myself to contemplate my useless existence.

"Honesty, tell me that it's over"

2005-03-07T10:41:00.000-07:00

My throat burns. I am sick again.

Was deserted last night, for the last time. I hate life. There is only one person I truly trust, and he does not trust anyone else in my life, nor do they trust him. I hate the incredible turns I have to take just because others insist on leaving me, or giving up and refusing to be there for me.

I have a question for you today. How should I react when someone looks me in the eyes and lies? I want you to tell me the answer to that. I am tired of you knowing everything and not sharing any of your knowledge. While you are at it, perhaps you could answer my list of other questions.

How should I feel when I have been stabbed in the back again?
How should I feel when I completely trusted another and got in over my head with more beings to take care of?
How should I feel when my love is kept away by the evil twists of life?
How should I feel as I am ridiculed for being unreliable even while I take care of 17 different animals that rely on me for survival?
How should I feel as I clean my horse's sore while I hold back the vomit?
How should I feel bearing the face of a woman I killed?
How should I feel as I tear my life apart piece by piece?
How should I feel, going to school but never learning?
How should I feel, dealing with others' mental and emotional states long before my own?
How should I feel, always a friend but completely friendless myself?
How should I feel, damned by GOD and his entire WORLD?
How should I feel, painfully drawing breath in a body I cannot stand?
How should I feel, breathing with a mortal wound eating into me?
How should I feel?

Tell me! You already say how I should act, think, and look. Now I give you charge of everything. So I ask you one last time,
What should I feel?

Words are not actions!

2005-03-04T12:48:00.000-07:00

Words are meaningless! Words are shit! I could say whatever the fuck I want, but if I do not ACT on them, I am a liar and worse than scum.

A deep hope inside of me is that someday a man will catch me before I run, but I know deep down it will never be so. I want him to stop me before I get away, catch me a moment before it becomes too late, kiss me, and ACT on it. I do not want some sweet speech, I do not crave his eloquence, but I NEED his kiss. I need him to reach me because otherwise it is nothing. You might as well have been reciting Poe for all the difference it would make.

Think of it like this, SAYING you will kiss someone means NOTHING. It is the kiss that matters! It is the action! As someone in Speech and Debate, I can honestly say, WORDS, SPEECHES, ARE ALL FOR NOT. We would be better serving our nation by not competing with words and using our logic for actions within our communities.

Alas, today I gave in again, (uggghh, how I hate myself for doing so), and acted for another. I had specified ACTING on the words they had spoken to me last night on the phone, but when they saw me, they simply repeated the words.

God I hate words! How I want to take my own life for only being gifted with words! They are all I have and they are nothing! Which makes me nothing!

I cried again over it. Their words.

I suppose it is because I can no longer be reached through them. I am beyond them.

So despite having me in words, they lose me in action. My words are NOTHING and thus, when you request them, that is what you will get, NOTHING!

I want to scream NOTHING. I want to make words a reality and tear them, chew them, kill them!

If someone is angry at me, they cannot hurt me, cannot touch me with words. I do not allow it.

Fuck literacy. Fuck words. Fuck Webster and his make believe world of words. Fuck anyone who gives into words anymore, so therefore, fuck me!

Fuck all of you.

Do you know why I say that? Are you hurt? You shouldn't be! Because it doesn't mean shit! It does not make one God-damn bit of difference what I say to you, or what you say to me!

"Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me."

Either act on it, or I will destroy you in my conquest. It is a simple rule. Which is ironic, because rules are simply words!

I am lost in this world you try to rationalize with your words! I will be DOING something, you can just enjoy your words yourself.

Good-day.

Tears

2005-03-04T06:30:00.000-07:00

Damn it all, I just typed a huge blog and erased it via the damn spell check and my idiocy.

I hate pop-up blockers.

Last night, I was destroyed. Utterly dessimated by another's actions.

Imagine, trying so hard to please another person that you are willing to spill your blood upon the ground if they request it. Now imagine that they have no idea what they want out of you, and request opposite actions on your part at basically the same time or only moments apart. Imagine losing sleep because you worry about their well being so much that it pains you twice what it pains them.

After another AcaDec study session, I stood outside in a tanktop and sweatpants. I was freezing, but I watched as another's tail lights faded as they turned a corner, and listened to their accelerator take them away from me as fast as humanly possible. I was crushed.

Later, I gathered enough of myself to climb into my car and I began driving. By the time I reached the first stop sign, I was crying so hard I could barely breath. I wanted an apology for all I had suffered for this person, but there was no way that they could honestly give one or I could accept one. They were the victim, "They," anyone other than me, will always be the victim.

I feel as though I am a dog, crawling back despite the fact that my master no longer feeds me or gives me any love. My hope is there still, that they will no kick me in the stomach this time and will pet me instead.

Now I know that I was not meant for love. I was not meant to recieve it freely. I can only hope for love if I give some sort of service to the other party, so I do. I ache with exasperation at the fact that I cannot make a single person happy. No one has ever been satisfied with who I am, not my family, especially not my parents, my 'friends', my peers, not even my teachers know the anguish I go through to try and appease them.

I watch as others are invited to things before my very eyes, only inches from where I stand, and lie that I have not over-heard. They do not want me there, and I do not want to impose, so I stand away.

Solitude

2005-03-03T11:05:00.000-07:00

I keep waiting for someone to stop me, someone to catch me before I get away, but no one ever does. They all "give me what I want" which means that I end up alone. I try and escape it all, try and destroy myself in order to understand this curse.

He's drinking now, and I do not like the fact that he is becoming an alcoholic to eliminate his problems and I am so quick to condone it.

Another kid is probably moving in with me to escape his problems.

I am the redeemer, solid, strong, and required to be alone.

Why don't people just take what they want??? All I want is to serve, but they tell me to do what I want and refuse to let me help, thus, in fact, keeping me from what I truly want.

Alone Again

2005-03-01T12:18:00.000-07:00

Sitting outside Father Falbo's office today, I wondered why it was there that my mind had brought me. Desperately seeking salvation of some kind I had gotten up from the group and walked to the library, where my friends soon joined me. The antsy feeling that now permeated throughout my stomach and forced me to the bathroom to cleanse my hands. Soon I was sitting outside Father Falbo's office, content physically, and wondering what I was supposed to be learning in that moment.

Desperately I wished someone who was looking for me, someone who wanted me, someone who needed me to be all right. At the same time, I knew that no one would come close to even thinking about me until near the end of the period, so I resolved to lose myself in meditation. A part of me wanted everyone to just fuck off, and a part of me just wanted to lie down and die. The biggest part of me wanted to be a part of something, which is why I just kept sitting there, tormenting myself with my thoughts, and enjoying the brief moment of peace that I was getting in the empty hallway.

Patience. I have no idea where it comes from sometimes. I would personally say that I am a very impatient person, but many others might disagree. Sometimes it becomes difficult for me to breathe as I hold my tongue.

Now I have nothing to complain about. I am safe from my mother's wrath, I have friends, and my family would do something if I asked them to, but I still feel alone.

After explaining to my counselor what was going on in my life, she posed the question, "But where does it all go? Where do you put it Natalie? What happens to all the stress?"

What scared me was that I did not have an answer. I have no idea where it goes, all of my fears and concerns. Fears like the one I get late at night in the dark thinking that my Mother will come in and yell at me. It is the fear that as soon as I close my eyes, Dominic, Ian, Jacob, or my Dad will need something. The stress of watching someone I love destroy themselves.

Yet, despite my complaint today, I would never give up the chance to help others, to know what they are going through. I just wish that I had someone like me, to listen to me, want to give me a hug even as they are being shoved away. I always had that with Graham. I never felt guilty for telling him, and he listened intently no matter what I was saying, giving me everything and requiring nothing in return. I think I am only capable of one way relationships. I am meant to be the mentor, the tutor, the parent, the support, the counselor, the friend, but I should not expect the same back. I used Graham, and I took him for granted, an unforgivable sin.

The pain for my Mother is worse this month than any previous, but I basically was handed a year's deadline to get over it, so I have began suffering in solitude. I am an adult now and as such I am expected to be mature, and to not need any babying. I feel as though I am in Hamlet, having to move on when I still have not accepted her death.

I finally figured out why I was sitting outside Falbo's office.

It was because of one of my friends. It was the fact that I had seen him, smiling and laughing, happy with those around him. Just last night I had convinced him to stay till morning, and there he was, acting as if there was nothing wrong! I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, but more than anything I wanted to celebrate his happiness. Yet, even though I could have sworn it was real, deep down, I know that he is only putting on a face for the rest of them.

It was the fact that I desperately tried to help him, but he did not talk to me. It was the jealousy that overcame me, when I saw him happy with Kena only moments earlier, and was cold and distant to me. The pain is in knowing that he is only hugging me so that I will not say anything.

I had left a bag in the theatre today, and despite the fact that five different people had told me that they wished I had their lunch, not a single one volunteered to walk with me. Oh, how I wanted to ask, beg someone to come with me! But, at the same time, I knew I never could. Also, if I had asked, it would have ruined it. I knew that no one wanted to walk with me, it was clear. As I trudged across the grass, I walked past group after group of people, fitting in, laughing, and finding something in common. No matter how "popular" I get at this school, I will never have what I did junior year, and that is friends who know what I am feeling without me having to say a word.

After coming back from Stage 2, I entered the school building, and saw two girls huddled near a locker, talking in hushed and excited voices about something. Exhausted mentally, I nearly wept for the site of the empty hall after they had gone. Something in that moment got me. It is the site I see everyday, the empty hall. Voices I pass and greet, people I know but really don't, classes I find myself in, all come back to the empty hall. This school is hollow, providing only pain for me, and a constant reminder of my solitude.

The lone wolf of Saint Pius, it is a wonder I do not bite the hand that feeds me. I am tired, but perhaps if I sit here for just a moment, I will regain my strength . . .

Empty Promises

2005-02-27T23:31:00.000-07:00

Sexual frustration hits its peak again this week. I was perfectly fine with not getting any, but the problem is/was that I was in the close proximity of getting rid of the frustration, but it was all empty promises. Not to say the person intended for it to be, but that's how my life seems to turn out.

I used to be hurt by the fact that often people do not say what they really mean, or do not stick by their word, but honesty is for fools. I once believed that honesty was the most powerful force I could wield as a weapon, but it ended up being a joke. Honesty saves nothing, and now I never seem to expect it, which makes me feel bad for being so cynical to people I can trust.

This weekend blew, hard. I was really sick of life by the end of it, and I wish that I still had another day of it just to get over the madness. First off, I have been dehydrating myself. No, Natalie has been dehydrating Nat as some sort of sick tool to get me to do whatever the hell it is that she wants. Now I talk about both of them in third person, I guess there is three of us, eh? Yes, I know that I am bloody insane, you do not have to repeat it! Just shut up! Who asked you to judge me anyway??

So I have had only about one glass of water every OTHER day for the last two weeks, and the rest of the time I was just drinking other fluids to try and compensate. Let me just say, it takes a lot of juice to try and hydrate a person. In addition, I have been really sick because of it and feeling like crap. When I get dehydrated enough I get really bad migraines, and Friday night was a good one.

Friday afternoon I got into a fight with Ian, one of the first that really cut me deep. Sometimes I have to wonder if it will ever be as it was before Valentine's day. Crap, I haven't told ya'll about the gift he gave me! I'll have to put in a separate entry for that.

After that Ian was hanging out with Renny, and I did not think about calling Jolene, despite the fact that she was in town, until about eleven pm, so basically I spent the late afternoon/early evening of Friday stuck at my house, not drinking water, trying to fight off this headache. I played about two hours of Mario Tennis with Dominic and then I managed to pass out on my bed after giving my Tarantula water. Later, my Dad came home and we all went bowling.

Take one migraine headache, mix in annoying family outing w/ discussion about college, one out of place girlfriend of my father's, Nachos, and the noise level of a bowling alley w/ flashing lights because it is "starlight bowling." Product? One very sick and nauseous Natalie.

I thought I was going to pass out. I drank a lot of water that night.

Saturday morning the vet came and took a look at my horse's penis, let me know that it was very infected and that I might have to squeeze it twice daily for about twenty minutes each time in order to assist the healing process. Amazingly, I was not phased. After nursing back to health practically every animal on this god-forsaken property, I am not surprised by anything. I then took a cold shower because the hot water was completely off, and then watched two out of the three Back to the Future movies while doing Physics.

I got to go to lunch w/ Quentin, Julia, and my Dad because my brothers bailed, and then I came home and avoided Quentin's sexual advances. After changing because I had plans to go see Jolene, I got sick again due to lack of water, and fell asleep on my bed. About twenty minutes later, I got back up and called Ian. His previous estimate of 4:30 had been off, it was not looking to be 5:30-6:00. I hid my disappointment. I had spent the last twenty-four hours hoping for redeemer, but there was not one to be found.

Finally, Ian came over and that was way cool. We hung out for a while and watched a movie, then made our way to Twister's for some food. Jolene called me about that time and directed us to Dion's where Ian and I finished our Twister's burritos. After that, we drove to a friend's house where there was a big party going on. Jacob was already there drinking, and when he gets drunk, he needs an entire team (Ian and I) to get him home safely. So even though the party was pretty cool, we didn't get to stay long because we needed to get Jake to my house. So I said goodbye to Jolene, and the first party I have had the opportunity to really experience with my peers and walked away.

Oh well. We got high at my house and that was pretty cool I guess. More than anything, that night just increased the frustration. Ian made me drink a little glass of water, and I made him promise that anytime he was with me he should make sure I am drinking water, he promised he would.

By today, that promise was mostly forgotten. I have not had any water since lunch, and it was half a glass.

I thought I had more homework than I did and that Paula and I would have to meet up to practice our Duo for State, and so then I stayed home and did not hang out with Kellen while my family went to see "Constantine" without me.

Ian came over to hang out but he was exhausted. He slept for about two hours while I kind of just dicked-around. I had planned on leaving over to Barne's and Noble, but I did not want to leave him alone, so I stayed and watched the end of about four movies before Matt called and talked to me for a long time. Matthew died this weekend. I now have to get over my feelings for him for real. Before, I had just stored them away, an optimistic part of me hoping that someday, somewhere, love would win the battle and we would get what we started out in quest for. Matt has made it clear that he no longer believes that is ever possible, and it is about time Natalie recognized that. Nat has already moved on, trying for the things that will work, not the lost causes. After getting to give out some relationship advice to Matt, I got to suck in a deep breath and swallow the tears. I was proud that I did not shed a tear.

It is over. He is dead, and I must learn that the man I was in a relationship with is gone. We are no longer those people. Besides, I am his friend, and it is my duty to be there for him, no matter what. Emotions are no excuse anymore.

Finallyafter deciding to get off my ass and clean out the fish, I pulled myself off the couch. About that time Paula called me and let me know that I should work on my DI and speech which are due Tuesday (haven't started either BTW), and so we called off our practice. Ian awoke just in time to help me and then we got to clean up my room and talk about life. He gave me the option of bolting, and it took all of my being not to run away one last time. I have so many problems with commitment it is unreal. Thus, the reason I will never marry.

Watched a bit of the Oscars. Felt sick thinking about the McDonald's my family was eating (ewww, fast food). I get so turned off by everything fried unless it comes from two specific locations of both Twister's and Panda Express. One thing that makes me feel better about this weekend, I could have had worse. Ian had worse for sures, so I feel pretty lucky to just have been abandoned and feeling loneliness. I might as well get used to it. You all read this and know how I feel, and despite what you may do for me, eventually we will all disband and become like friends who perhaps call each other around the holidays to have awkward small talk for five minutes, if we even get that far.

Got sexually frustrated right before Carnivale, was promised some help, but Carnivale ended and we said goodnight. I do not blame him, he has got a lot going on, and it does not really even matter anyway. I suppose I am just getting too needy. ::sigh:: empty promises. . .

Empty promises float in and out of my life, and I just keep on trekking. No one can really understand, and I can no longer explain how I feel, because I am too far gone. I am a trapese artist performing without a net, but I do not know if anyone is going to catch me on the other end, so I never let go of the bar I am currently on. The problem, however, is that the ropes are slowly wearing away, so sometime in the future I will be falling to my death. Not like I really cared anyway.

Boy, I am kind of thirsty. . . Maybe she will let me drink water now! I am probably getting too hopeful, but I am going to go see.

Despite what I may have said, I want to be clear about my message in this blog, and it is that
THIS WEEKEND SUCKED.

My Critics

2005-02-25T22:51:00.000-07:00

I figured it was about time that I let everyone know what I went to the others for. In addition, this is just my attempt at an honest interpretation of how you stand in my book as someone I request opinions from.

Dominic- Will let me know if I look really bad in clothing. Is honest about his feelings toward my actions, but has more discretion when discussing his own. Too young to know many of the hard lessons I have learned, but way too mature for someone his age.

Alex- Relationship advice. Generally bad at giving other advice because we seem to have led completely different lives despite growing up in the same house.

Kellen- Will proofread anything I hand him and is always willing to tutor. Has gotten me through many subjects and helped me with many issues where I need an outside opinion, but his pessimism also leads to an obvious bias, which I tend to take into account.

Ian- Great at support, not so good at handling things that involve my well being. Emotions tend to override his logic during arguments about me taking care of myself, which only proves that he cares. I go to him for mostly everything because we generally agree, and when we don't, there's generally a good reason, because one of us ends up being very wrong.

Jacob- Great at clothing, food, and relationships. Always willing to help me when I talk about my illnesses or other such without judgment.

Matthew- We have been very close in the past, which leads us to a sort of odd relationship, where we are both looking for something that no longer exists and yet keeping up appearances. He is pretty good about having motivational quotes handy, unless pressured, in which case he draws a blank. The problem with this relationship is that often I find myself holding back even more than usual, waiting for the catch. In other words, he will find something and shoot me down over it. Not to worry, I used to do it with my Mom and I now do it with my Dad all time. It's easy, just watch what you say.

Justin: There when no one else is, comes through middle of the night on the internet, answering questions I have not even asked. Really a saving grace.

Jolene: A rare one, but important. One of the few girls to make the list.

C: A new one to the list, has changed my life in ways I never thought possible and inspired many of my recent writing.

Speaking of which, as a writer, it is important to note each piece of inspiration as it comes along. Each tiny piece of love or pain I receive is in turn stored away and fed to a character for the story. It is all for the story.

I suppose that is what I really want. Every writer has at least one good story that they were made to tell, the secret is finding out what that story is. I am starting to find mine.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

2005-02-24T22:58:00.000-07:00

I keep losing the battle. I try and keep my cool, take a deep breath, inaudibly so that he won't hear. My mind repeats over and over what he has just said,

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

It's just bouncing off of the inside of my head. Rebounding, and refusing to go away. I try and block it out, and focus on what is important, he is hurt, and he is trying to express that. What he just said was brutally honest, but I can easily forgive his honesty. What I cannot forgive is that I have allowed that to become the truth. I am upset that I have accepted Nat and Natalie as eternally bound. I am sorry for myself, sorry for hurting him, sorry for the sorry truth, all in one deep breath.

I think ahead, to graduation. I suppose I will work my ass off and get myself through Creighton. I thought that there was something here for me, but I was terribly wrong. There is nothing here but the past and my future sits in glistening halls on Creighton's campus inside the Dental School. I am fated to arrive there in August.

Deep breath, and swallow the truth once more. I have given everything for not.

"Looking back on the things I've done,
I was trying to be someone,
trying to play my part,
I kept you in the dark. . .
Now let me show you the shape of my heart."

My greed has gotten ahead of me, and I no longer wish to be this that I am.

I look at my life, and all I want is work. All I want is to be so busy I do not have time to think.

Little to anyone's knowledge, I have not taken my medication in probably three weeks. I have not seen Dr. Davison, and I am no longer talking to my family about personal stuff. I have been dismissed by Dominic, turned out by my Father, accepted by Mr. Penn (the AcaDec coach I loathe), applied for four jobs, studied harder than ever before, gained more fish, and found that I am not at all alive. I survive. It is what I was built to do.

There is no God. I see that now.

There is no hope in love.

There is no place on this lowly green and blue planet for pain-in-the-ass girls like myself.

There is no way I was meant to be a girl. There is no way that I can live as if I should be. The grass will always be greener on the other side, because I am standing in dry dirt. The forsaken land. This empty chest I hold, this empty vessel, this overturned cup of sin. I would give it all away.

It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard as well, but what makes it worse is, I have wanted to say it for a long time, but tonight was the first time I had the chance.

Nat is fighting, by telling you what is going on, but no one can see that. So I twiddle my thumbs, wash my hands a few dozen more times in a row, curl up into fetal position with my clothes on, and sleep in utter paranoia.

Ian

2005-02-19T22:42:00.000-07:00

I was reading a very interesting book tonight, and despite the fact that I NEEDED to know what happened to Verna, the main character, my mind drifted away. Suddenly I found myself trying to keep up with my eyes as they continued to move across the page over the words, but when I went to turn the page I knew that I had not comprehended anything that I had read in the past thirty seconds. I momentarily closed the book and thought back to a conversation I had only an hour earlier.

My Poet called me tonight, and when I looked at the caller ID, my heart skipped a beat. It was the same cell phone number from the night before. Kirk's cell phone that was being used by Ian to call me.

I had idly hoped earlier in the day that Ian might call me, but realizing that his phone was out of the service area, I had accepted the fact that there was another twenty-four hours standing in the way of communication. However, he borrowed his buddy's phone to call me anyway.

Last night, or rather, early this morning, two of my beta fish died. I suppose that only one is really mine, technically. I know for sure that I purchased Sophie with my own money, so you could say that she was my fish, but Ian was with me, and we bought them together, excited and laughing. At some point, it does not even matter who buys, but rather, who is there. Ganymede was definitely both of ours though. No, they were both our fish. We both love them, and we both would watch each other's fish at any given moment, just because the other had requested it. We are single parents who swap duties to make sure all of the children, (fish), are cared for.

We already had one die before, Kore, and we had been deeply hurt by that loss. I had spent several hours last night, despite the illness I am currently harboring, staying by the tank, bringing Sophie and Ganymede gently up for air on regular intervals when they were too weak to swim up themselves. In the beginning it was a miracle. Two fish I assumed were dead began moving when I uttered the words "God, please let them live! What will I tell Ian if they die?" They did live, but only for a while longer. I watched as their scales went from a deathly black to their original color, then turned white and their movements became weak, indicating their imminent doom.

They died several hours after I had witnessed a miraculous recovery. They were just fish, but they were my fish, my baby girls. I had no idea what to say to Ian. Later, I could not help not going to the store to fill their space, and I ended up with three new fish. As crazy as it sounds, I did not want the other three fish to be lonely. Ganymede and Sophie were the originals, the big sisters of the fish tank, and I adored their constant rivalry.

I have digressed, this is about the phone call. When Ian called, despite how I needed to tell him, I wanted to hear about his day. I did not want to ruin it for him. He was so excited, and I was so glad that he got to go skiing. Sometimes school can be too much, and he really loves being on those runs, I wish I could make it so he could ski everyday, even though it would mean I would be away from him.

Finally I said,
"Ian, I have some bad new."
"One of the fish died."
"No, we lost both of them."

The silence on the other end was deafening, I felt his pain because I felt it too. I had felt it all day. It is moments of despair that make me respect life as a gift even more.

"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry, you didn't do it."
"It wouldn't have happened if you had been watching them."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I. . . Can't."
"There you go. You have no reason to be sorry."
"It was still my fault. I went to the pet store today."
"Oh. We have more fish, don't we?" His voice brightened slightly. I was happy for it.
"Yes, we do. Three in fact."

Our conversation continued on and we told each other that we loved the other and hung up. I miss him terribly.

What drew me out of my reading, however, was what he said in those few lines where we discussed the fish.
'WE have more fish, don't WE?'

Never before has anyone just assumed that they were part of it. They are our fish. He is not running away, he is not making them his, but they are ours. We are a crazy family, those 10 fish and us. In some way, it meant more to me than anything else I have heard him say about us, because it was not him trying to explain it. It was fact. It was a given in the proof.

I felt safer in that moment, than I have ever been with anyone. No matter what our problems, no matter how deep he gets in it, no matter how far down I sink myself, we have someone there.

Our crazy, mixed up family.

Now that I think about it, that was my miracle. Seeing the two fish come back was unreal, I cannot imagine even explaining it in words, but this, this beats even that. This is love, real, tangible, and something that everyone can believe it. It is love based on trust.

Thank you Ian. Thank you.

Burning To Tell You

2005-02-19T19:51:00.000-07:00

You know what it's like
when you like the person, but you never can quite get it out?

It's like your sentences
never run
together
and each part just keeps running on in your mind
but your lips never catch up?

I feel that way sometimes when I think of him
and tears well up deep inside me
Because I will never have him like I should.
I will never be able to hold him like I used to
and when I talk to him now
all I hear is the happy voice of him
moving on.

Far away and still running
I can taste the memory of what we should have been
and I am still crying
Hoping that he will know.

It was supposed to be us!
I know I have wrecked it all,
but it should have been us!
Doesn't he know what it takes!
All I want is him!

But I cannot.
I am here and
he is still there
moving on,
smiles in his voice
and his talk of his future.

It used to ours.
My future and his
combined into one.
But now it is simply that,
his
and
mine.

Different lines, different times
Places
Completely unique,
and my mind keeps going faster than my lips
when all I want to do is beg for his love.

But it is gone.

I wish he knew how much I need him
Like cinnamon on applesauce,
he just fit.
But I will never taste it again
so maybe I should just put the applesauce up
because I think it has gone bad anyway.

Matthew

2005-02-18T18:40:00.000-07:00

He was the one, my first high school crush. I thought that eventually my last name would be his, that his body would be beside me every night when I went to sleep. When our relationship began, we got along like nothing I could have imagined. It would be only one week before I could tell him I loved him, and I meant it with everything I had. He was perfect in my eyes, and I could not see anyone besides him. I was so honored that he saw something in me, because all that I saw in myself was flaw. Even after he became mine and I was his, I desperately wanted him. I needed us to be together, nothing before had ever been so perfect!

Even at that time, there were two of us. There was Nat, who was afraid of doing anything out of line that might cause him to stop loving me. Natalie was silent, waiting in the back, patiently biding her time. Two beautiful months passed with Matt and Nat, then Natalie made her treacherous step into the situation. Violence and impatience upset the balance and soon he did not know who I even was, but we kept working on our relationship. He changed as well, perhaps there is two of him now, but whatever the case, my heart began to break.

After a year and six months we were finished. While we will never be together another time, Nat cannot let him go. Yet I, Natalie, know that she is clever, she will save others by keeping them from us, keeping them out of my clutches. Sweet little Nat, to her, every emotion is precious; every moment in love means another portion of happiness that she can store away for later. Her lost virginity was a pure gift of love which now I can only thank her for. What she did out of innocence and goodness I have easily corrupted. Sex would now be nothing to me, but to her it is still an act of love and trust. I would gladly corrupt her body; break her for my own pleasure. With the help of another, I would rape her, take everything she has left, but I have yet to find a consenting male.

So, now I have taken this. What started out as hers, this piece of writing is now simply what I dictate to her. You may ask why I even bother allowing Nat to survive at all. Well, I will tell you. Just look at her! She is good, she is brilliant, and she is so much fun to torture! No other person would dare to come near us and trust us if it were not for her! Never could I write as she does, and while she hopes to destroy me, she cannot! I loom over her, over powing all her actions. Without me she would be nothing! She would have no voice and she would never gain anything! It is my determination that lets her succeed and eventually she will be able to do nothing but give thanks for everything I have done and beg for her life.

She is silly, fickle, and begging me even now to stop! I smile, spit in her face and take this blog. Ha! I laugh at her useless efforts! Oh Nat, you are so lost, but do not worry, I will take good care of you and your friends.

To all our readers, she will be fine. Do not let her worry you with internal matters that no longer concern you. From now on, it is the reign of Natalie!

Two Different Me's

2005-02-17T22:34:00.000-07:00

After every word you say, no matter who "you" turns out to be, I am calculating my responses before you have even finished a statement. I determine what you want to hear, or versions of it, and which version I will be able to deliver with the right combination of inflection from my voice, so that you will believe me.

I never meant to lie, but now it is out of control. There is the inner me, which wants to beg you to help, show you how desperate I really am for affection, acceptance, and love, and then there is the more outspoken me, which silences what I am really feeling to give you what she feels you need to hear.

You believe I am all right, but I am dying so much on the inside. By the time the stronger me is finished, there will no longer be any traces of the old me. As of right now, the inner me still has pretty good control over what goes into my blog, but I fear that as the number of people who are hurt by my blog increases, than my outer self will have more and more control.

I beg of you, HELP ME. I send out my SOS in the hopes that someone will be able to reach me before it is too late.

I have gotten back to listening to other people hang up before me. I always hope that the silent inner me will be able to speak up, while the outer me forces me to stay there by the phone, listening as yet another person walks away without ever knowing.

I think about it, and I am horrified. I have created my own abuser. I destroy myself, and you don't even know it. You never know when a person is in an abusive relationship, but I am telling you, she wants me dead. I do not know how long I can beat her.

There is me, the real me, the small, insignificant me, emotional and caring me, there is Nat. Then there is Natalie, the destroyer, the evil manifestation of my frustration who is determined to win. Natalie's competitive spirit, perseverance, and general loud and convincing nature makes it impossible for me to win.

I feel as though I am writing and trying to beat a terminal illness with my words. Make myself immortal through my writing. When I am gone, just know that I love you all, and I always will.

-Nat

"I doubt if it will be much longer before time takes my Poet from me."

2005-02-14T22:30:00.000-07:00

Only sixteen hours before I typed the above fated words into my blog, and as I looked into his eyes, he was gone. My Poet has left me.

In all honesty, he is the first man ever to accomplish the feat. He ran away from me before I could run from him. I had considered running last night, and fought against myself with strength I never believed I had and stayed. Then, God forced him to move on. His personal life and issues have made it so that he cannot keep up a relationship right now. I accept that, and cannot stop loving him, despite the torment I now face.

I tried not to cry. We are friends, and there is no profit in the tears, but they kept welling up inside of me. The worst part was, he had let me run away for the last two months and finally rejoiced at my return only 6 days before. At least I had 6 days with him.

Now, some may say that perhaps he will get better, and that I should be optimistic and hope for the future, but I know that I will never have him again. When he does feel better, someone else will take my place, and I will blink back the tears to celebrate his happiness. I have lost something very close to me, but at least I had it for a time.

Real love! Burning passion and desire that left me only filled to the brim with contentment. Kisses that said everything without a single word! How can I be upset when I got to have just a piece of real joy for six whole days?

We had considered going further physically today than ever before, which would have potentially made me his first, but he backed out and stood next to his morals. While my weakness and sexual frustration left me grappling for his reason, I soon discovered that he has inner strength I can only hope to attain, and I admire him even more now. I am glad that we did not go further. I am glad that I am not for him.

I am so happy that he is free of this, and I hope that she will love him the way he deserves to be loved. I hope that the girl that does lay in his arms everyday knows how lucky she is, and what sort of gift God has granted her! I hope that she knows what others, namely me, would be willing to give to be where she is.

I will toast my Poet at his wedding, and I will be ever glad for his happiness.

Tonight, I weep, do not doubt that I cry for my loss more than I can explain. Yet, I smile, knowing that I was able to give my love exactly what he desired without trying to hold him to myself.

You are free.

I will be here for you, broken hearted but ready to make you smile, anytime you need me.

My cell-phone is always on.

Check Out This Site

2005-02-14T22:21:00.000-07:00

I figure this will probably be where I am at in about 5 months when I move out of this godforsaken house and into somewhere small with way too many people crammed in between. Or perhaps I will be the "flatmate" everyone chooses to loathe. Hell if I know, I am going to go ahead and go burn myself, or just blog away all my feelings.

It's weird what sort of blogs are out there, and who you can really find if you look hard enough.

http://ihatemyflatmate.blogspot.com/

C,if you decided to check out my blog again, you taught me something important today that I will never forget, we should always be grateful for what we have. Even in your rants, you accepted that there are many who would die for what you have, and that is amazingly intuitive. You have changed my perspective, thank you.

Breeding Beta Fish on Valentine's Day

2005-02-14T00:07:00.000-07:00

Hallmark Holiday, gag. My throat still burns. Yeah flu!

As I was lying in bed today I thought back and realized how much I still love my first. I cannot let him go, despite the fact that neither of us is who we used to be.

At the same time, I look up to the eyes of a man who holds me just to be there, in that moment, with me. I am cheating him with my thoughts, and the guilt is slowly killing me.

I hate love. I just want to be free.

You wanna know the worst part? I will never have either of them. Our lives continue in different directions, I doubt if it will be much longer before time takes my Poet from me.

"Straighten up little soldier
Stiffen up that upper lip
What you crying about?" -Eminem

What point is there in writing? What point is there in this life? Love never has, nor ever will, conquered/conquer evil.

I die for nothing. I will never have what I desire because this life, this world, THIS GOD, you all worship, refuses to allow it! What was my sin? Why was I charged with the care of a woman over double my age and her two sons? Why do I have to carry the guilt of something I NEVER ONCE asked for??? Why do I sit here in anger trying to explain what is real to the ignorant?!

Why do I waste myself on useless toils? Why do I attempt to be a good person? There is nothing inside but bad and hate. I will tear you all down, and take you to where I have come from so that you too may see my pain!

Know what it feels like to live your life in ridicule. Let you know how worthless you truly are. Let you suffer at night, crying yourself to sleep while you muffle your sobs and listen for foot steps above your head. Let you wish that you could walk, but stare at the cool gray beautiful blue eyes of your brother and know that there is a reason yet to fight, then WATCH, HELPLESS, as he becomes more of a cynic than yourself! Let you know what it feels like to never satisfy your family, never achieve their praise minus the compassion your innocent younger siblings give you. Watch as they are ruined, as those around you STEAL your family and take credit for the things you have given BLOOD for.

Worry about your tumors, but do not speak up because your father could not possibly afford it while he buys his girlfriend a new jacket and about ten other things for Valentine's day. Know that you will never be his first choice for anything. Know that despite all your work, everyone thinks you are crazy, and you are!

I want to "dust-off" my arms so badly, but I know what you would say, Ian. I know the look on your face right now as you read that and I know that I break your heart with my broken actions.

"Take my advice, stay away from broken people." -White Oleander

Long Lost Virginity

2005-02-13T23:10:00.000-07:00

There's a place at the top of a ski lift in Angel Fire, New Mexico, where I could just stand and take in the view for hours. It was there that I first remember thanking God for everything I had, and it is no surprise why. During the summer, you can hike on up to the top and look out over a ridge and you can inhale deep the piney sweet air. The clouds will hang over the valley below, and you know, you just know, that it is right. During the winter, the air in front becomes your cloud that slips out from between your speechless lips to drift lazily out beyond the overhang, and melt before your eyes and give way to the spectacular view.

I wish I was there tonight. I wish I felt that same God filled feeling that I first found while wearing polka-dotted pants that Alex ridiculed as we hiked through valleys and avoided bears. I wish I was six again, that I still believed my Dad was the best man I would ever meet, and that my parents would be together forever. I wish I was fearless, scared of nothing except for my older brothers' harsh words. I wish that Louie was still that older dork that I wanted desperately to be. I wish that I could still feel safe in bed.

Actually, I do not think I ever felt safe in bed.

I wish that I could have my first love holding my hands again, the only expectation being a potential kiss at the end of the date. I wish that I had saved myself. I wish that I could believe that there is someone out there for me.

I wish I did not hate God and I REALLY wish that I did not teach CCD and have to convince my students to believe something that I do not.

I wish I could drink this all away like I used to. I wish I could stop crying. I wish someone would slap me, ground me, and tell me that I am a horrible person. I wish that my mother was here to tickle my arms with her dry finger tips that would wear away my skin with her coarse love. That is how it always was, even when she showed love, it was bittersweet.

I wish that Alex knew how hard it was for Mom to come out to New York with me. I wish he knew how anxious I was. I wish my family knew how scared I was taking her out of town under my jurisdiction when she had been in the hospital one week prior. I wish they knew what it feels like to hold an adult in their arms as she cries her heart out because she is suffering from withdrawal.

I wish I did not hate Julia for all the things my Dad does for her that he never did for Mommy. I wish that Godiva did not chew up my books because she feels so alone now that my Mom is gone and is dying for her love like I am.

I wish that I did not run away from love, and I am sorry to everyone I have hurt. I wish it did not kill me to know that I cannot have you forever. I wish I had not tried to seduce you, and I wish that you would walk away.

I wish that people did not need me. CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I KILLED HER?

I wish that she would stop haunting me! I wish that I could sleep one night without nightmares! I wish that I did not feel as though God had abandoned me. I wish that my Mom could see that I won. I won! Mama, I won! Please, be there, just once! I am Student Body President! I got into Creighton! I made the AcaDec team! I am taking care of your, my, sons! Look at these medals from state! Look at them, please! Open your eyes!

But you are ever cold. You never saw. I fail you with every success I complete too late. I cannot breathe for the guilt!

I have served my penance! LORD, TAKE THIS CROSS FROM ME!

I wish someone would read this tonight and feel my loneliness. I wish that someone could reach me cold and hard heart. It is dark and desperate now. Forget me, I am already gone.

But ye, I wish that you all could see the view I remember now. It is beautiful, and tonight, I feel its solitude. It is lonely also. The deep cry of the mountain fills my own heart, and the hole inside my heart could not be filled by all the rocks that compose that beautiful perspective that takes my memory by surprise.

I Should Be Sleeping

2005-02-12T23:17:00.000-07:00

Currently all of my underwear is in the wash, so I am going commando in sweatpants as I type this.

It hurts to swallow, and it hurts to breathe. My nose is stuffed up, and my joints are sore, especially my neck. My sinuses are stuffed beyond imagination, and I should be sleeping but I cannot.

My Love!
All I can think about is you. I want you by my side. You make me feel beautiful, you make me feel real. When I am near you, I do not have to fear what others make think, because you are far less judgmental of me than I could ever be for myself. You accept and love me with everything you have and I wish I could give you back a fraction of what you give to me.

You terrify me, excited me, exhilarate my senses. You drive me wild beyond belief. All I want is you!

My poet, my sweet, sweet Shakespeare! Speak to me with the eloquence I never knew a man could possess. Captivate me with your mysterious eyes!

Oh, HOW I LONG FOR THEE!

Dominic, my youngest brother has now joined the cast of my readers, so welcome to him! As a warning to you all again, you read what I write, that is not my problem. I refuse to censor myself for someone else's benefit. If anything I ever say hurts you in ANY way, then stop reading. Do not force me upon you.

Justin, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I love you buddy, your hugs mean more to me than I will ever be able to explain.
Jolene, I cannot wait until your hot ass makes its way into town with Starla! I'm so fucking pumped about it!
Ian, you already know you are my pookie! Oh, before I forget, what's the password?
Matt, please take care of yourself, that is more important than anything else right now.
Dominic, you know you are my favorite. I am so going to be your soccer-mom forever, so never worry that I won't be here to support you!
Leanne, if you are reading, you know you are totally my new best-friend and I would do anything you needed me to, no questions asked.
Jake, you're the best.
To Graham and Kellen, if you still read this, that's awesome and all three of us need to get together soon.

I put ya'll in no particular order, and if I left someone off, do not take it personally. Currently I am tripping out on Nyquil and need to be sleeping, but that is another story.

GOODNIGHT ALL OF YA!

Another Tumor?

2005-02-09T22:28:00.000-07:00

Deep breaths, just take deep breaths.

Ok, so last year I had to have two surgeries on my boobs for the removal of some tumors that were there. Age 16/17 and I had to live every day wondering if that day was the last day that I lived as someone without cancer.

I discovered the first bump in the shower, and one month later I was scheduling a date for surgery.

It gave me a lot to thing about. Anyway, tonight I itched on my left breast and I went to scratch it, but I rubbed deep into my skin and felt an all too familiar bump just under the skin.

My dad reminded me last night how much of a waste of money I am already. It's bad, but right now I am hoping that I don't have cancer so that my Dad will not have to pay.

Anyway, I'm going to go "feel myself up" to check and verify the findings of a few minutes ago. I will update ya'll when it comes.

I love you!
-Nat

My summer night in winter

2005-02-09T11:58:00.000-07:00

Crawling up the sheets to me you came, inching forward with expectation in your heart. Your soft bare skin met mine and you cocked your head to look down at me. Caressing me, I felt you inside and I knew in that moment that this was right. Despite what 'sin' they may name it, I know the truth. There is love in your actions, there was, and there always will be. For that you will be my poet, by my side or away, you are the sweet sonnet of my existence. You are my ecstasy, my bliss, you are my vibrant longing fulfilled. You are with me now, and I know you.

One night of love in your bedroom locked away from the rest of the world, I found love for the first time. Real honest love, and you saved me.

Thank you. I will always love you.

Lain Waste

2005-02-07T10:37:00.000-07:00

Lord,

The gifts you gave me are not being used. I know not what my duty is nor where I must travel. The journey continues on but I have dampened the once bright light you cast upon my trail. I do not even know if I travel in the right direction. It is night and I cannot see the horizon for the trees. I have sold you out, but I still ask myself one thing. Am I the Christian Judas or Simon Peter? Can I still repent or must I hang the noose about my neck in despair?

Lord, how I have lusted after your acceptance! Yet, even now I am scared to ask for forgiveness. I do not feel your unending love because I do not deserve it.

Desert me, I beg of you! Leave me in my dirtiness! I am not worthy of this grace, this beauty you let me see! You gift me with the future, the past, and the present, and still I fail thee! Your daughter I am now, caressing your feet in hypocrisy while I curse you with my actions! Every sin becomes a brick in the wall that separates us eternally.

I have crushed your creation, your amazing immaculate picture, and I can no longer look in your eyes. Your empire is lain waste and my guilty stance gives away my lack of worth.

Oh Lady, Sir, my God and Savior!
Whatever name you claim now!

I love thee more than I can ever tell you

But you already know

You are my fire and radiance, my reason to strive forth

I call thee today for assistance

Light my path and give strength to my broken hands!

José

2005-02-06T23:53:00.000-07:00

Met a boy at State AcaDec. He's on the Belen team. By the way, we won, by a landslide, I am really proud of my teammates, they deserved the win.

As for me, I guess the only real win was the fact that I got some Betas, José's number, and I got to see my family win. That's what they are, my teammates are my family. I would give my heart if one of them needed it.

I stared up from my bed sheets tonight, book laying open on my leg to keep the page, blanket wrapped around me like a cocoon, and I realized for the first time that there was no beautiful butterfly waiting to come out. I have already taken flight. I flutter on the gentle weeds as an ugly black moth, hideously eyeing the leftover blossoms, the used nectar. I want nothing more, but you insist on seeing something more than me.

Your dark eyes call to me and grasp something deep within me. You are my poet, my dark and mysterious love. I cannot breathe for fear of the movement. I am scared to do anything to lose you, but at the same time I know that I push you away with every brush of my soft wings. I am merely trying to stay afloat, but you are falling again, and my tears only weigh you down.

I hate that I am scared to tell you everything. I hate that I cannot kiss you because I cannot commit. I hate that I know what we could both have, but I turn it down. I choose to fly away like the wind, let you believe that I do not want you, so that I do not hurt you further.

I will say it again, I wish you loved someone else. My broken hands cannot reach for you, and my bite would destroy you even if I could.

Everything has to be a competition, and I must win. Even conversations now include a winner, a loser, a draw. I accept defeat no longer, and I drive myself crazy with the voices of my mind.

I twitch in anticipation, in anxiety, in relaxation. Nothing satisfies me, not even for the moment. The dog at my feet shudders with sweet dreams and I cannot bring myself to accept her as she is.

Time is not linear, and because of this, I am forever with you, forever in your arms, and forever in your anguish, in your pain. We are both together and apart for all of eternity. I am dead and alive, I am speechless and talking, all in the same moment, all in my mind.

Black walls creep throughout the house, and I am alone in a corner. Tired of being creative, tired of being inadequate, tired of being told I'm beautiful when I can see the truth. I break the mirrors with my hands in order to distort the horror I see staring back at me.

Dark spot on your lower lip, and all I want is your plush pink softness pushing up against mine in intimacy. Tear my heart out and eat for the pain it would save.

Go Chicago 2005, Cteam.

NatalieSPX.blogspot.com

2005-02-03T21:37:00.000-07:00

I will be changing this current address because there is one of my readers that has become very dangerous and refuses to leave me alone. Please email me whenever you read this and I will let you know what my next site is. It will be a lot of work because I think that I will eventually be able to move the entire blog, but we will have to see how it goes. I might just have a bare site for a while until it is safer to expand. I am sorry on behalf of my stalker friend that you guys will have to do this, but I will talk to ya'll separately about this at a later time.

Make Up Sex and Beta Fish

2005-02-03T16:00:00.000-07:00

State is tomorrow and I am terrified. My speech is not nearly ready, and there is not much time to fix it. I hate this. I have been a jerk to almost everyone because someone else cut me deeply yesterday. My bad mood leaves me shaking in anger wanting to physically hurt others. I am tired of this, but I suck it up and go back into studying.

There is nothing harder than this moment.

I take and deep breath and dive back in.

True Love - Part One

2005-01-30T13:13:00.000-07:00

No, I am not a rape victim, but just like murder should not be ignored, neither should the innocents who suffer from another's selfish cause. The whole piece, which will eventually be several blog entries long, goes out to them. Tonight, this is for you.

He shoved me back against the wall. I felt him hard against my leg and he grabbed for my breasts. I hated this but I never could stop it. His breathing accelerated. I took the opportunity to look past him in a desperate search for someone who could help me. I knew there would not be. He noticed me looking behind him and he turned to see what I was looking at. I took my chance and pulled away from him. I was a faster runner than him, and I knew that if I managed to get just a few feet out of reach he would not be able to catch me.

By the time I had moved it was already too late. My moment of hesitation meant my defeat. My worn tennis shoes slipped in the layer of dirt on the sidewalk and his hand closed around my upper arm. Before I could react, his other arm grasped my wrist and twisted my right arm behind my back. I squealed in pain, the feeling in my arm was worse than anything he had done to me before. He shoved me to the ground and I heard my head hit the cement.

"Oh, now you are going to get it!" A swift kick to my stomach sent me gasping for air. He pulled me to my feet and forced me to the shed. He was the only one in his family who had the keys and it was so far out in the backyard that the irrigation ditch would muffle any sounds coming from inside. Not even a bloodcurdling scream or a gunshot could be heard above the roar of the water. He unlocked the door and shoved me into the dark interior. There was one window on the back wall that had years of dirt caked onto its surface. There were several dirty potato sacks in one corner and he threw me down on them.

"Undress yourself or I will hurt you."
"Please, stop this! I beg of you! You know this is. . ." SLAP! My body shook with his blow.
"Now."

I hurried to undress for fear of him as he shut and locked the door. The only way to unlock the door is through the key which he placed on a wooden beam above his head. He stood about two feet above my height so I realized that I could not reach the key. I looked toward the window again; the edges had nails driven into them holding them closed. I was trapped.

I was also cold, shivering out of fear and the air against my now bar skin. He took my wrists and bound them together in an efficient and rough matter. Tossing me to the ground he tied the other end of the rope to the wooden pillar above me. I did not know what to do.

What seemed like years later, I heard the zipper of his pants and the harsh rustle of plastic. I watched as the condom package wafted down to the floor. He pulled down his pants and knelt down near me. Forcing my legs apart, he entered me. It was a deep soreness that only intensified as he drove further in. My first time, and it was awful, completely evil in nature. I received no enjoyment as he continued pounding in a steady rhythm. Deep heaving sighs on my neck as he held me to him.

Minutes later he froze, letting each ejaculation flow out of him with a tremor.

After he finished he pulled away and stood up. He did not look at me. I had no idea what he planned to do with me. He removed the key from the spot above his head and unlocked the door. He gently removed the semen drenched condom from his penis and tossed it outside. Picking up my shirt, he wiped himself off. Then he pulled up his pants, buttoned and zipped them, straightened his shirt, and walked out. He shut the door behind him and I heard the door lock with a satisfied click.

I was alone.

Reflection

2005-01-30T11:10:00.000-07:00

The person you see is not the one I know. The reflection I see is not who I am inside. If I saw myself on the street, I would be the only one not to recognize myself.

"The Prayer"-Song at My Mom's Memorial

2005-01-27T21:48:00.000-07:00

I looked at myself today and I learned something deep and real that I had never known before. Today is the one year anniversary of my Mother's death. I have survived one year, and I have no idea at all how it was done. It was simply a nightmare that I never awoke from.

Today I woke up, and I know something that many of my peers never will. I am the luckiest girl I know, because I know suffering. I know true anguish and I have almost met death. I still crave death, but I would not bring it upon myself today.

You all do not know what it is like to survive 18 years of life being beaten down by God and lose everything, but in the end, receive it all. I feel as though I am the child who had to work harder for everything her entire life, but in the end, I am better for it.

As I kissed my hand and then put it to my Mom's gravestone tonight, I thanked God for unanswered prayers. I thanked him for each time he refused to just let me die. I thanked him for letting me hate him, for letting me turn away only to find out how true my faith was. I thanked him for making my family grow apart and grow up individually so that we could come together again tonight. I thanked him for helping Matt to choose West Point so that I would have a horrible year of solitude in which to become strong on my own. I thanked him for each and every single tear that my pain had caused me. I thanked him for every time I felt alone, every time I thought I could not go on, but did. I thanked him for saving my Mom from her pain.

Her blood is still on my hands and I wear it like a modern scarlet letter, but because of this, I will not let it happen again.

I thank God for teaching me how to love deep down inside the real me.

Today was one of the roughest days of my life, but it was the end of a year long battle. I won. There were many casualties on both sides, and we barely forced a surrender on the other side's part, but we won. I celebrate your lives tonight, my friends, my family.

I drink to you! (Dr. Pepper, unfortunately).

I am not happy with everything, and I know this feeling of satisfaction and safety will soon fade, but while it is here, I must thank you all.

In alphabetical Order
Ashley, Graham, Ian, Jacque, Jacob, Jimmy, Jolene, Justin, Kellen, Leanne, Matt, Melinda, Nathan R., and Nathan Hadsall (wherever you are), Thank you for everything! I love each and every one of you more than I can explain in words, and you have saved my life so many times I cannot even tell you. You are all my redeemers, my guides, my idols, my pillars of strength when I have none, and tonight I am in your debt.

Please call me if you ever need anything! My Cell is always on!
505-440-2203

Love,
Natalie

"In time her death will be a mystery, even to me."

2005-01-26T21:50:00.000-07:00

These words from the movie 'Secret Window' ring true in my life.

No, I am not talking about my mother, I am talking about someone else I love. In time I will learn not to love them, and he will outgrow me and our suffering will end. In time, all of our past love will become simply that, just history. We will remember it like we remember our sixth birthday, fondly, but broken and chopped up into bits that can hardly put back together in our memory. We will not yearn for it as we do now, but instead go onto other misadventures. Other birthday parties to celebrate.

In time, I will no longer backslide, and we will be apart forever.

For now, I wait for that day.

'Write It Next to "Rape"'

2005-01-25T21:44:00.000-07:00

Do not judge me! Do not attempt to know who I am because you have already failed! Your words stab me with their ignorance, and I grow weary of explanation. You do not have to understand, I am not going to go anywhere, I will always be here for you when you need something, but stop pretending you will return the favor! It is safer for you not to know anyway, at least this way I cannot poison you.

You Never Understand

2005-01-24T22:21:00.000-07:00

I hate everything. I just hate it all.

I study useless facts for a man I loathe. Kellen insists on stabbing me in the back to the point where I cannot help but cry. I achieve for a Dad that just wants me off the phone so he can talk to Julia. Quintin wants in my pants, and even though I am completely sexually frustrated, I hold him back. I hate being female. I teach kids that probably hate my class. I am a jerk to all of my teachers except for Mr. V, Cappleman, and Mr. MacMurchadha and the only reason I am not a complete bitch to them is because their classes mandate silence. I keep reaching out for other people, but I just drag them down too.

Matt, you never understand. I keep having to fight for you against everyone else, they all believe that you are bad for me. To top it all, I know that we are not going to make it. I will not allow myself to have that hope, there is no point. You do not understand me now, and you will never have the opportunity to know me better.

The devils of my mind will not let up. I am plaguing myself, and I feel everyone judging me for who I am and the fact that I can never seem to focus. I have no idea how I make it through the school day, and I have even less of an idea how I manage to get my homework done on time, because I never seem to hear the assignments when the teacher gives them.

I ache, physically and emotionally.

Ian, ah Ian. You are you. I hate the fact that I know you told me, but I did not remember at all that you started again. I hate the fact that you are a hypocrite just like the rest. The same goes for you Matt.

I feel as though I cannot trust either of you, and I feel as though it does not matter.

I hate everything. I write this now and you will be hurt, I do not care.

My Mom used to beat me down, she kept me in check. While it might not have been right, it meant that I was not able to hurt anyone, but instead took hours of training on how to do to others EXACTLY what was done to me for sixteen years.

STOP HANDLING ME LIKE A FRAGILE PIECE OF GLASS. Because I want to cut you. I want to slice all of you so deep that the wound will NEVER heal! I want all of you to feel what I have to!

::gasp:: no I don't. I really don't. The evil inside of me is winning more and more these days, and I am tired of restraining myself.

I want to slip into a drugged haze and escape this world. I want to drink myself into oblivion. I want to go to sleep just like her and end this suffering tonight, but I can't. I want to take myself away from all of you.

Karen D. Rivera

2005-01-24T01:07:00.000-07:00

She died nearly a year ago. In fact, it will be a year on Thursday. I still cannot wash the blood off my hands.

You all keep asking me what my deal is, you all want to know me deeper. The truth is, there is nothing to me. Recently, I have been told by several people the I am in beautiful. Even students I have never talked to before have told me this. I do not understand, I do not think that I ever will.

I will admit that there is nothing like the feeling I get when I know I have aroused a man. It is an adrenaline rush. I could be completely unwilling to do anything with the boy at that time, but just knowing that he aches with want of me is something I desire deeply. I feel my crisp blue eyes, reaching out, taunting another to crave me. I can soften them at will, drawing the viewer in, and then destroying them just as easily. I like being on top, making others vulnerable in my sexuality.

I am like her in that aspect. Ah Mother, I learned the tricks all too well.

::LOOKS AROUND IN INSTANTANEOUS PARANOIA::
Shhhhh! She's coming down the stairs! Shit I am not supposed to be awake! I got to go. I am so going to be grounded tomorrow, so I will talk to ya'll on Tuesday if I cannot sneak on!

Bloody Snow

2005-01-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

She's crying again. I can't get them to shut up. He is begging to be let out in a hoarse voice that indicates he has been yelling all day in the hopes of someone hearing him while I was gone.

No one can rescue either of them. They are just like the rest and they will be buried beside them. I tell her to shut up, but she won't listen, so I kick her in the stomach. Her bruises from yesterday's beating are evident. I do not feel bad for what I have done to them, they should have been better friends.

Sharpening my knife, I run it across his skin allowing little lines of blood to appear and begin flowing. He is crying silently in the hopes that if he doesn't scream I will stop sooner. After about the tenth I go deeper. I am not getting a reaction and it is making me angrier.

She starts crying again.

I cannot contain the anger and I ram the knife into her chest. I can still hear her bloody coughs. That is how I left her.

He started screaming. He is terrified.

She is still alive and stares at me in disbelief. I spit in her face.

Human suffering is amusing.

Now I just need to decide what fun I can have with him.

I Should Have Never Let You In

2005-01-19T16:14:00.000-07:00

Cross Country. Carnivale. Insomnia.

Things that defined me as a person, you have STOLEN! Name one thing that I do that you do not insist on doing better?

Calculator games. MY rubik's cube that started the craze at Pius. My family's activities that have become your own.

I was used and disposed. How can you love me when you don't even know me anymore???

You are just like everyone else.

I am surprised that you did not join Speech and Debate.

Even the blog, everything. You are a better version of me. You drink more coffee, sleep less, and have the more dysfunctional family. Congrats, you win. You even try less and get better grades!

I hate competing with you all the time, and I won't do it anymore.

Marlboro

2005-01-19T02:36:00.000-07:00

Driving across the bridge I exhale and a clear shaft of smoke leaves my mouth. The windows are open on the Camaro, and I am driving too fast. The ground is wet, I am barely stopping the car from its continual hydroplane. I drink in the night. The cool summer breeze off of the river enters my lungs and I shake the ashes off the end of a dying cigarette.

I blink, imagining life is different, that I am someone new. When I open them again less than a second later, I am that new person. I have become all the things I never wanted to be, but perhaps I was them all along, I just accept them.

The disease of my lungs, my addiction to something I cannot let myself have, has become my whole life. I desire the things I cannot possibly have, but am satisfied when I get them momentarily.

The taste of liquor is in my mouth tonight, not because I have had some, but because I have not had any tonight. I still feel the past coming back in all my senses, and I am content.

Blue Tongue

2005-01-17T22:08:00.000-07:00

Each word we swear, each syllable we utter, means something to someone, somewhere. The knowledge we impart on others, the impact we make, makes more of a difference than we will ever be able to make ourselves understand. I hold my own emotions in captivity tonight. I am tired of being what you want, I just want to be me, I just want to be free.

The more I look, the more numb I get because my efforts no longer matter. Blue tongue, blood no longer runs and I cannot feel, like rubber in my mouth, it does not matter what I say. You will hear only what you want to.

Ignorance, blinding love, takes us from the people we want to be, to the people we become. Who has ever met the person they desired of themselves?

The greats look at themselves and see inadequacy,
the mediocre looks at themselves and see only their mediocrity.
The lazy never bother to look.

What are we if we are never what we should be? We fail with each breath. Each step takes us further from the path of righteousness. I am long on my journey to defeat, and I grow weary of walking. I know you watch me tonight, so I force my legs forward.

" I don't want to be preceived the way I am,
I just want to be perceived the way I am"

Relient K's nonsensical phrasing makes sense only to those that have already felt their words ring true in their life.

Manifest of Lust

2005-01-16T18:46:00.000-07:00

You move through the dark to my bedside, reaching out for me as your eyes adjust. I feel your wanton need as I turn on the lamp beside my bed. You perch on the edge beside me and your right arm finds its way to the bed on my left side. I sit up, our heads are close. We say nothing and our lips are only a small space away from touching. Our breathing accelerates and I reach up and stroke your cheek.

Nothing can stop this tonight, I need you like no night before. My eyes plead for you to take me, use me, anything, my body yearns for you. I know it is wrong, but I need you physically inside me tonight.

Turning my head in an instance of morality I pull you to a hug. My arms embrace you instead of my lips. Your body against mine feels restrained by clothing, and in an instant it is a forest fire. We are moving, caressing, touching and clothes are pulled off.

Soon I am next to you, we are naked, moving as one. I begin at your neck sliding down your body with my lips. You shudder as my nostrils release a shaft of air onto your skin. Laying back your head on my pillow, you are completely at my disposal. In the cool summer air floating in through the window, your nipples are hard, and I am still moving downward.

Before I go further, you are forcefully pulling me up towards your mouth. Turning, you are on top, moving into me.

Both of us gasp with the moment of connection. Further kissing, nails dig into your back and release. Our motions become one and our breathing steadies. I am aware of my family in my house, but I am not silent. My cries of ecstasy cut through the silence as I climax but you keep me there with your movements. Sweaty and in complete bliss we move apart.

I know it was wrong, and I know I have lost it all with our actions, but that moment was my reason for having survived until then. That single sin made my life worthwhile.

I come out of sleep in my own sweat. Evil apparition of my desires, you were only a dream. You have taken me from my dream and made me awake in my actions. You have aroused me fully, and I am worse then before. Ah, a woman's simple 'wet-dream.' I am exhausted, fulfilled, and hungry for more, all in the same.

The Worst Compliment

2005-01-16T07:45:00.000-07:00

Rang true tonight, Dominic's words.

"You Fucking Whore!"

Tears down my cheeks and I burn with injury.

Ah, you will never know the pain you have caused.

That hurt more than anything else that I may have been called during my life.

Sticks and Stone's May break my Bones, but words will fuck you up royally.

A Badass

2005-01-15T19:44:00.000-07:00

The above is what my bestfriend, Ian, clarified me as after my Speech and Debate tournament. Trying not to brush my four trophy's off as nothing I accepted his compliment. However, tonight's win was completely empty. I do not feel that I deserve anything I received tonight and the more I try to recall the rounds in which I competed, the more they seem like a dream.

My Dad does not care. I worked so hard to get my parents' attention, and now, I never will. Tonight was the best I have ever done at a tournament, but it did not matter at all.

I called home wondering if Ben and Dominic wanted to go out to dinner or whether or not I should attend the team dinner. They said they wanted to go to Twisters, so I headed home, excited that they wanted to eat at the same place that I did and wanted to hang out with me. When I reached home and changed, I discovered that they did not actually want any food at all. I am not one to eat alone. Great, I missed the team dinner for nothing.

Dominic's comments on my trophy's were generally kind, but ended with "These trophy's are kind of wack." Ben said that I was "freaking awesome." My Dad thought it was kind of cool, but I realized that it did not matter to him how I did, he never understood and he never tried to.

Great, now I am crying. Why the FUCK did I work so god damn hard for people who do not give a shit?!! I might as well sit in my room and stare at the wall for all the difference it would make.

To top it off, I could not even get a hold of Matt. I know that Ian and he love me dearly and both of them care, but it still feels like nothing when my family does not care. I appreciate their support, but I was competing for some one else's tonight, and I lost. No matter how many trophy's I win, it will never matter.

Dominic

2005-01-15T01:26:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I came home and convinced Dominic to go to SPX with me to clean up after a fundraising dance. It was the first time we talked in a long time. Later, after we both got back home, Louie called me and we talked for a long time as well. Alex talked to me during the day and I helped him retrieve his cell phone which he had left at Molly's place. When I left the SPX parking lot this morning I paused and saw Ben's car parked in the lot near a bunch of juniors' cars. I pulled over and left him a note letting him know that I would be back to help clean up after the first dance he had run during his hs career and that I loved him dearly.

Something changed today and I realized that I would kill someone if they hurt a part of my family. Sometimes I feel badly for the way that Missy got treated after she broke up with Alex, and other times, I know that we could act no differently. We are a pack and always have been. When Alex, Ben, and I were beaten for our mistakes, or the other times when we all helped to pull the trampoline out of the pool after it blew in, when I was scared in the hospital before surgery, my family was there. When it really counts, we come together, and we would take down anyone who would dare to come near us.

Ian started taking "shake skins" at school today. Alex and Sean's creation, and despite the fact that Ian is my best-friend, I almost decked him. I was not upset at first, until I realized that no one at Pius knew that it had originated with my family. He had stolen a part of us. Even now I am upset at it and shake in rage.

My family is my everything. There are so many times where I had to give up everything for them, and I did, but nobody on the outside could understand.

I HATE WHEN PEOPLE TOUCH MY STUFF! I consider MY family part of my stuff. If someone hurt Dominic in any way I would remove one of their arms if not kill them. I told him that tonight, and he knew I meant it.

I love them dearly. You will never know what the walls of my room know. The horrors and guilt that the walls in this house have seen, and you will always be an outsider.

I will always be a Rivera, no matter whom I marry. I will carry that name before any other, because I am proud of it, and I have earned it.

Sunset

2005-01-14T11:44:00.000-07:00

I used to spend hours outside. I never really enjoyed it, but that is how I spent years of my life after school during middle school. This was long before I discovered that extra-curricular activities would provide a much more efficient way for me to avoid my mother.

There are spots out behind the barn where I used to throw dirt, sit on hay, and just talk to myself. Sometimes I would talk to God. I still remembered the closeness I had felt with God during fifth grade and I held onto hope that he would come with my salvation.

If I went back inside I would only be yelled at, so I stayed outside. Sometimes I would make up chores that required me to be outside, simply so that I would have an excuse to be outside. I was always in the backyard, and sometimes I could feel her eyes watching me as I cleaned out horse stalls or played with Dominic on the trampoline. I tried to keep my brothers outside the house for as long as I could making up every game I could think of just so that we were all safe together away from her wrath. Eventually Dominic and Ben would grow tired or cold and would go inside to homework or to their video games. I would stay outside.

I was alone in my suffering, and I knew that. I would brainstorm games for the next day, dream about my life in the future, and try to decide whether or not I should tell someone what I was going through. Patting Stormy on the nose I knew that I was not completely alone all the time, I had my animals. After we got Billy, when he still liked me, I would run around the barn letting him chase after me, and then I would turn and run back after him. A sort of tag, only we never touched and it was simply running. I was free. I played this same game with the horses sometimes, but they did not like as much as that goat did.

By eighth grade I was still hanging around out back learning how to jump from hay bail to hay bail and pretending to be a Pokemon whenever Dominic called upon me to play with him. I would be a puppy, Pikachu, anything that Dominic wanted as long as we stayed outside on that tramp. I began to "come up with the best games" just to keep him interested. While I was looking out for Dominic, what he did not know was that he was looking out for me by keeping me away from Mom.

Whenever it finally got dark I would turn on the barn lights and work on something inside the stalls. Sometimes when it was so cold my hands were going numb, I would close up the barn doors and sit inside where the wind could not reach me. Whenever this happened, if I had not cleaned out the stall recently I would sit inhaling the urine smell that drifted up from the shavings inside the stalls.

Eventually I would be called inside on account of the cold, the darkness, or because dinner was ready. Occasionally I would just get tired and head inside to start homework where my Mom was either ready to be angry at me for staying outside and not doing my chores inside, or was asleep upstairs and I could change my clothes, grab a bite, do some math, then head to bed.

I was very scared of her. So scared that sitting outside bored out of my mind was better than being inside where she could decide to do anything with me.

Sad Eyes

2005-01-14T10:29:00.000-07:00

Pain inside comes creeping out. This week has only been a reminder of my solitude. I have shared things with someone I never thought I would say, and now I realize that I just want to shout it out loud. I need to let others know. I am tired of this need to break something, but that is only because the blows I took are now part of what I am, what I do.

Scared of myself, I see her, staring back at me through sad eyes. I never became what I was supposed to.

My mother lives, haunting me daily. EVERY night, I fall into my restless slumber, and there she is. Even though she only hit me once during my sophomore year, I see her, screaming at me and beating me until I cry out. Sad eyes that see all my actions now stare back at me from the mirror.

I can barely breath for this is not enough room for two inside this body.

I know you all see it, that I am not the same. I will never be, but I try, for you.

Scared and alone,

-Nat

Poisoned You Again

2005-01-11T23:25:00.000-07:00

I fucked it up again. I am poison. Venom.

Stay away from my thorns. I may have beautiful flowers, but you will never smell them, I will kill you before then.

I wreck you with every move I make. I move away, I destroy you, I move towards you, I crush you, I remain stationary and breath, and you combust.

Everything is ruined tonight, and I want to ruin myself to save you.

I feel the devil seeing through my eyes, taking you apart piece by piece and I cannot stop it.

For God's sake, please walk away! I beg of you Ian, GO.

My Neck Still Hurts

2005-01-10T22:08:00.000-07:00

All of my joints hurt, I am paranoid, as if I am dying. It is out of hand. I thought that my medication was helping me, and while I am not as down as I was before, I have a lot of problems focusing on anything. I feel worse than before when it comes to paying attention.

Yep yep, time to go write a speech, do homework, and/or sleep. TTYL!

Death In A Can

2005-01-09T01:13:00.000-07:00

Sitting in front of me, death in a can. I can have the can. I do not even have to pay for it. I can pick it up, turn it over, throw it on the ground, do anything I want to try and get it open, get to the contents, except for use the can opener.

I have owned the can since my birth, and it is pretty dented in my attempts to get at it, but I have never managed to break the seal. I am not sure who has the opener or how to get it, so I just keep hurting myself in an effort to end it all. Confusion, conflict, agony in my mind. Everyone else ignores my dents, acts as if I am perfectly fine, but I am crumpled on one side and feel completely hideous. My can misses its label and on some days I fear that someone might open the can for me, others I wish that someone would.

I love, yet I yearn for death.

Mark this, I put my can back on the shelf for another time, but I will get it open, I just need to find that opener.

My Neck Hurts

2005-01-06T22:59:00.000-07:00

Totally exhausted, but I am not going to sleep anytime soon. I still need to do laundry for Speech and Debate tomorrow and write two more speeches, do my current event for Cappleman, and finish my other homework. My neck is really sore.

Ian said that I am working myself to death, and he is probably right. My anxiety to be constantly doing something has taken over me, leading me to become completely aggravated by my classes that do not have something that is CONTINUALLY teaching me something new. At the same time, AcaDec is dragging me under, I am not giving up any of my extra-curricular events and am still managing to have time to tutor Dominic and talk to Matt when I can.

Today my theology teacher Mr. MacMurchadha (pronounced Mac-Mur-ah-coo), talked about rest being a basic need of all humans, at the time, I was calculating how much homework I could get away with doing in his class so that I could do other work later on. The rare times I have time to myself I make it a point to type in a blog, something that is VERY relaxing or read some of a book.

I am completely in love. I am also really feeling emotionally stable in my work even though I know it is literally killing me. What can I say, I am not accomplishing what I should in a day. I need to work harder at it.

I hope that I find all of you in good health and that you can also be content with where ever you happen to be in your life. Please find the time to drop me a line, I will try and get back to you, although it might just be through email in the middle of the night.

Take care.

CARNIVALE PREMIERES THIS SUNDAY!

Full Circle

2005-01-04T22:34:00.000-07:00

Vinegar in my mouth. I still dream of what cannot be. I see it in my dreams. At least there I have you.

Velvet tears drip silently down my face tonight, longing for your voice, your touch, for you. Water becomes wine and the maroon signs of sadness roll off my face and splash on the tile. Each plop stains and becomes a mark I cannot wash away. Never before have I seen myself like this.

Self mutilation takes over. I write to express what I feel but I have no audience. I could call so many people, but I have no voice. I AM MUTE. Can you not hear my silent blood curdling cries for help? No, you cannot, but I do not blame you for that. By the time you read this I will have already destroyed myself. I will be nothing.

I slip uneasily into my dreams to see what could of been. I stop breathing to hold that moment a bit longer and then I am gone. Forever in the endless sleep. Do not worry, I will always be with you.

Never forget, it was worth it. Each moment of bliss was worth the years I have spent in agony.

I will always love you, but I will not show it anymore. I am sorry for everything.