August Adrenaline

Sorry it's been so long! Here's something to entertain your eyes :P
I plan on reading it for a poetry slam next Friday *cough* which is also my birthday *cough*
Let me know what thou thinkest!

August Adrenaline

Do you remember that warm August night?
The look in your eyes,
How our laughter reached the skies?
I was yours, and you were mine,
Everything about you was divine.

What started with awkward hellos,
Turned into picnics in grassy meadows,
In the burning summer heat,
As our feet tapped to the beat,
Of Black Sabbath, Green Day,
Katy Perry's "The One that Got Away".

But the summer started to end,
I prayed I wouldn't lose my best friend.
You told me that wouldn't happen,
Not to us,
But that was a lie,
And it hit me like a speeding bus.

On that last day in August,
We acted like we were fine,
I was still yours, you were still mine.
We held on, even as August had gone.
September loomed, my eyes filled with gloom,
Or maybe just tears,
At the thought of you no longer being here.

Since then, it's been
Put-downs, "What if?"'s,
Endless guitar riffs,
In heartbreaking country songs,
As I sing along,
Trying hard not to cry,
As I remember that August night.

The fact that you weren't coming back slowly became true,
And then it was clear to me,
What I needed to do.

I need to break through,
Find truth,
Do anything to remind you,
Of that warm August night,
The look in your eyes,
How our laughter reached the skies,
Back when you were still mine.

Let's Start A Riot!

So - really need to stop starting my posts with "so" - as like, one or two of you may know, I write for the school newspaper.
Well, technically I don't write for them considering their first issue is supposedly coming out at the end of this month and no one's started writing articles yet. 
Anyways, I think I'm going to drop out. Here's why: (Yes, I'm venting again) 
1) They rejected my idea.
Yeah, yeah, I know I sound like a little kid, but seriously. It's not cool. My idea was to write an article on teen suicide. And this is what they said about it "It's too serious." "It's too sensitive." "It's too depressing." "We don't want to scare people away with our first issue."
What the hell? This is exactly the kind of attitude suicidal teenager need -NOT! Honestly, I've had suicidal issues before, and quite frankly if I went to someone for help and they were like "Oh, we can't help you because it's a sensitive subject." (which basically means "We don't want to help you because we're scared of suicidal teenagers") I would probably be dead right now.
Which is why I want this bullshit to stop. Which is why I joined the school newspaper. So I could raise awareness about this kind of stuff and help make it stop!
But nobody gives a shit. It's the truth. I'm gonna have to face it sooner or later. AND IT REALLY PISSES ME OFF but I'm just going to have to live with it.
Okay, I tried it, and I can't live with it. SERIOUSLY THERE ARE SO MANY FUCKING KIDS OUT THERE WHO ARE BULLIED EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY WHO ARE SO CLOSE TO KILLING THEMSELVES AND THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO AND THEY DON'T WANT TO REACH OUT TO ANYBODY SO WE NEED TO HELP THESE KIDS. THEY AREN'T GOING TO SPEAK UP BECAUSE THEY KNOW NOBODY GIVES A SHIT. WE NEED TO SHOW THEM THAT WE DO GIVE A SHIT! GIVE A FUCKING SHIT PEOPLE!
Sorry. Really passionate subject. Let's move on now :)
2) They're really exclusive. 
My sister's always telling me that wherever I go in life, things will always be exclusive. But really, on the school newspaper there are less than 30 of us, so we really should be sticking together. But today, I was alone, since none of my friends could make it, so I ended up sitting in a corner alone, though I really should be used to it by now. No one invited me to go sit with them. Though I guess I could've asked to sit with someone, but ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ like I said up there nobody gives a shit. Even though this is a different subject people still don't give a shit.
3) They're extremely disorganized.
There's one girl who's in charge of the whole newspaper, which I don't really understand but oh well. There's a teacher who watches over her but he really doesn't do anything. So this girl is all like "e-mail me your ideas and I'll let you know if it's a yes or no". So I'm like, okay, I'll e-mail her. So I e-mail her my idea on Saturday I think it was and I wait. And get nothing. And wait. And still get nothing. So I keep checking up until the day before our next meeting (which was yesterday) and I check my e-mail again. NO-FUCKING-THING! I send her the same e-mail again adding a message that was something like this "I didn't think you got my e-mail so I sent it again.... I get that you're busy since you have a lot of people to e-mail back but I'd really appreciate it if you could get around to e-mailing me back. Thanks." Kind of bitchy, I know, but what else am I to do?
And it's not even like it's the wrong e-mail address. Everyone who's a part of the newspaper gets e-mails from her every week reminding them about upcoming meetings. And my friends all get replies back, so I don't know what this is.
Okay. Well. She did e-mail me back. But really late at night. Which isn't very nice. I mean, I go to bed quite early and I don't have time to check it in the morning. So yeah. But still.
What am I supposed to write about? Dammit! I need to get with my photographer and talk to her.

Ugh. I'd rather be doing Slam Poetry right now. That overlaps with the school newspaper meetings so that's why I couldn't do it in the first place. But yeah.
 

I have an idea for a novel though. Which sucks cause I have another idea for a novel and an idea for a short story and I should really get those sorted out soon so I can have some kind of organization.

The nerve!

Sorry it's been so long bloggees! I've missed you! Especially Ann- if you're reading this, please don't hate me :)

So basically, I need to vent. So that's what I'mma be doing in this post. Venting. If you don't want to listen to me vent, feel free to leave now :) No hard feelings.

So yesterday, I got my overall mark for English. It dropped from a 85 to a 83, which isn't that bad when you think about it. I mean half of the class is failing, so I think it's pretty good. So I showed it to my mom, who happens to be a typical semi-Indian parent, no matter how hard she tries not to, and it went something like this:
"Hey mom, look at my English mark."
"WHAT? What happened to the 85?"
"Nothing. 83's pretty good though."
"No it isn't. You should be getting 90's, 100's, 110's. There's always room for improvement."
"Um, you should be happy, the class average is 43."
"SO? You should be getting 1000's!"
"Fine then. Maybe instead of volunteering at the library tomorrow night I should stay home and study, for nothing. CAUSE I HAVE NOTHING TO STUDY FOR!!"
"That's nice honey. Don't you have a drama presentation tomorrow to practice for?"
Heh, convenient how she remembers things when they work in honor of her. I've never really liked my mom. I want to move in with my dad. Maybe once I'm done high school....

And then if that wasn't bad enough, today, I found out that this girl has been talking shit about me.
Now, let me give you some background info on her:
I'm gonna call her K - her first initial.
I've known her for 2-3 years now, and in that time span, she's always had a boyfriend. Not that same one either, like, 5 or 6 different ones. Which I think is pretty bad. We're only freshmen -EEK!
And she's also very pretty - I won't lie. But her boobs are like, totally fake. God. And she's kinda smart. Academically, she's quite above average, like me, but most of the time she acts like a ditz. And she's always talking about bullshit. Like phones or manicures or sports - she's extremely athletic too - or boys or bra sizes, the last is actually the one she talks about most :/
And she likes acting, like me. Well, not as much as me. But yeah. Earlier this year we were in a play together and we both auditioned for the main role, we were the only two, and she got it. And it was her first time ever being in a play. Whereas it was my 3rd or 4th. 
So, to recap, K is everything I'm not, pretty much. She's better than me. I get it. I've accepted it. No biggie. Not that I'd want to have a ton of boyfriends and boobs so big they look fake.
 Anyways, getting on with it. A friend of mine, unfortunately sits behind her in English, so they were talking about their marks today. The same one that my mom got pissed at me for. And K was talking to my friend, and according to my friend it went like this:
K: I probably have the highest mark in the class, again. 89, pretty high (seriously, she talks like that)
My Friend (let's call her Z) : I wouldn't be so sure, Ritz is pretty smart too, and English is like, her home turf.
K: Ugh, Ritz. She's such an attention hog, and everytime I pass her a ball or something in gym she'll be like "EEEE" And she's always in frickin crisis mode everytime we do a test in this class. Like what the fuck is that all about?
Z: o_O
Me? An attention hog? I sit in the back of the class, in my dark clothing, with a book every single day, refusing to talk to anyone. What the heck? And the "EEE" thing? I mean, yeah, I do that sometimes, but only because things catch me off guard, and some people in our classes think it's pretty damn funny! And Crisis Mode? Yeah, so what? Like she isn't freaked out about our tests? That lying bitch.
And people still come up to me (well the ones who know) and our like "Hey Ritz, why did you try to kill yourself?" and then I'll tell them that everyone judged me and that I was bullied and they'll be like "What? By who?" and I'll tell them that it was people like K and they'll be like "K? But she's so nice!" And I'll be like "Shoot me now..."

So that's why I'm pissed. I mean, I'm like a worm in the high school food chain, so why would the cheetah at the top feel the need to push me down even more? And she acts like she's the shit and she knows everything about everyone. It's like "Um, no you don't. You don't know shit about me bitch." To her I'm some, attention-hogging, annoying, little kid. She's the same fucking age as me. Just because I don't have a boyfriend who's a Junior, doesn't make me any less younger than you. In fact, I think it makes me more mature because I don't need a douchebag to make me happy.

Now, I feel bad about trash talking her, but I need to get it out one way or another, and I doubt she's in to blogs: "Blogs are for gay people." Yeah, you know what, she's right. I'm gay. Somewhat. Bisexual. So what? (yet another secret I have to live with- I can't come out to the people around me, I'll get shit everywhere I go - as if I don't get enough already)

But yeah, there's my rant. You don't have to pay attention to it. Doesn't matter. You don't even have to read it. It's all good.

He thinks I'm a freak Ann, he thinks I'm a goddamn freak!

He won't even reply to my reply! What the hell?

Why do I let myself do this? Every single freaking time! I don't know what's wrong with me! This is why I hate myself Ann! BLARG!

I just don't have that charm that you and other relatively normal people do. I'm a freak. I'm a goddamn freak.

DAMN IT!

I should just go die.

If you tell anyone Ann.... anyone at all.... AVADA KEDAVRA!

So, Ann. I don't know how to say this. It's happened before though, on Quizilla. Which makes no sense cause Quizilla is stupid as... nevermind.


Anyways, basically, what happens is, there'll be a guy. (Always a guy) And he'll be different. Like, let's say, he'll write poetry. (Please just tell me you know where I'm going with this so I don't have to actually type it cause then that'll make it real and ughhhh)

So, I'll read all his poems, figure he's a nice guy. Work up the guts to talk to him. Become friends. (Well, maybe not friends but acquaintances)

Ann! Why are you so sadistic? Grr!

And then, I guess.. even though I know I'll never meet him, and never be worthy of him and all that... I guess I just...



fall for him. 


EEEE I HATE YOU ANN! Well, not really, but yeah. 

Hmm.... hmmm..... HMMMMM

So, while on vacation, I got a new novel idea. It isn't fully developed yet and this preview does NOT sound like a story about murders and a planetarium (yes, yes, that's what it's about). This preview makes it sound like a love story, which it is in a way but I want the murders and the planetarium to be the main focus here! Anyways, just wanted to know what you think. I bet it's total and utter bullshit. But I say that about everything I write, and I'm probably right. I don't know. Whatever. Just read: (I would say Just Listen, but you can't really listen now- HEY! LISTEN!- sorry, had to, inside joke *winks at Miya* you can just ignore this crap in the brackets now if you want)

Me thinks I'mma call it Under the Stars

Prologue

                10:47. I sigh, the next bus is at eleven. I shake my head and take a seat on the bench.

                A while later someone walks towards the bus stop. I sense his presence before he sits, but I wait until he is seated to look at him.

                “Hi,” he says. I smile; this is nothing new to us, we’ve been doing it all summer.

                “I’m leaving,” I tell him. His eyebrow rises. 

                “Really?” I nod.

                “Well then,” he says, “I’ll miss you, Girl from Room 711.”

                That’s been his nickname for me since the day he saw me. We don’t know each other’s real names. That’s okay with us though; we figure we’ll never see each other again anyways. 

                “I’ll miss you too, Boy from Room 713.” I take in his dark hair and bright eyes one last time. Then the bus arrives. I step forward while reaching into my bag to get my change. He grabs my hand before I can.

                “Wait,” he says, biting his lip. He apologizes to the driver, saying he’ll only take a minute.

                “Be careful,” he tells me. I roll my eyes.

                “I’ve course I’ll be care-“  he cuts me off by kissing me. I am in shock at first, but then I turn into fluid in his arms.

                “Nobody is safe,” he kisses my forehead gently, letting his lips linger before letting go of me completely.

 “Even under the stars.” He whispers this, so I can barely hear him.

I wonder what he means by that, but the driver is getting impatient.  I apologize and step on the bus. I take a seat near the window.

I watch him step out of the flickering light of the lamppost and disappear into the night.  I think I see him raise his hand before he goes, maybe to make a gesture towards the stars, as if to prove his point.

Eventually I let myself fall asleep; telling myself it must’ve been my imagination.

Keep in mind, I haven't had that much experience writing in this tense, and the story's kind of different from others I've written. So chances are it is bullshit. Oh well, I need something to do with my time, may as well fill it with bullshit. Cause bullshit's fucking awesome!


I would call myself a nerd or a dork right now, but I don't think they swear so I'm just going to stick with this:

I NEED A LIFE. 

In a TV show I was watching there was a girl named "Anita Life" HAHAHA!

My name's actually pretty close to Anita, now if only my last name was Life.... hahaha

CHAPTER ONE IS DONE!

            I left Jess’ house muttering “good riddance” under my breath. Luckily, since it was so late, nobody was out of their house. This means that nobody noticed me.  That gave brownie points to me because a) someone would wonder what happened between Jessica and me or b) people would be intimidated by my appearance.

            I’m not that scary looking really. I just like to wear eyeliner which makes people think I’m really in touch with my feminine side.  Most of the time, they think I’m gay. Like that doesn’t make me feel even worse about myself.

           

            As I turned onto Colin’s driveway, I pushed all thoughts like that out of my head. Then I walked around the house to Colin’s window while trying to stay quiet. Unlike Jess, Colin lived with his parents.

            When I found it I searched the area for pebbles or something I could throw to get him to notice me. It seems the odds were in my favour; the Fletcher-De Luca's had a fish pond at the side of their house and there were a lot of pebbles nearby.

            My aim wasn’t the greatest (I’m not much of an athlete) but I managed to hit my target about five times or so. On the thirteenth try I saw a light turn on in his room. Then the window was opening and he was leaning out.

            “The fuck...?” He mumbled, still groggy from whatever pornographic dream he was having that night.

           

            “Colin!” I whisper-hissed, “It’s Lysander!”

            “Lys?” I saw his eyebrows raise an inch. Then he motioned towards the front door and signalled that he’d be there in a minute. I went around the house to meet him there.

            Colin opened the door and then stepped outside. He was wearing his mom’s pink slippers. I rolled my eyes.

           

            “What the hell’s going on now?” He asked me. I explained it to him quickly, ignoring all the questions he had. Then I asked him one of my own.

           

            “Will you come with me?”

            Colin hesitated, and then looked down at the slippers, then up at the balcony above us that led to his parent’s room, and then back at me.

            “Yeah, okay, what the hell?”  I smiled.  I knew Colin would say yes. He would do practically anything to get himself out there and into the world of music.

            He wanted to be a musician, but the problem was, he couldn’t sing. He was an amazing guitarist, hell, he was better than me and I hated him for it.  Colin never realized that his singing was off-tune; he always thought he was wonderful at it. He didn’t even notice when a girl turned him down after he sang an original song to her. “Ehh,” He had said, “She’s fat anyways.”

            Now, at exactly four thirty-seven in the morning, on the day after my eighteenth birthday, my best friend and I were driving down the highway in my father’s pick-up truck.

            “Where are we going?” Colin asked me, after we had made sure there was enough gas to last us a while.

           

            “No clue, where do you want to go?”

            Colin didn’t hesitate. “California.” He said, his eyes sparkling.

            I took one hand off the steering wheel so I could pick up my Coke can and clink it against his.

            “Sounds like a plan.”

            

HAHAHA! Sorry, last bit reminds me of Simple Plan. And I just listened to the french version Jet Lag, which I actually understood! And not cause I've heard the English one too, cause some of the French lyrics are different!

And I've been listening to this too:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rK04Q6AFQTE

Don't you love it when two of your favourite singers do a collaboration??? :)

AND MY GRADUATION'S TOMORROW! YAY!

Ann!!! This is for chuuuuu! :)

 I like his hair :)

He gets like 3 stars out of 5. It's only the hair that I really like.

 He doesn't really seem like someone who would punch his best friend, but he has that shy aspect I wanted for Lys.

4 outta 5.

 The one problem I have with this guy is that he seems too conceited. I honestly think that Lys should be tall and lanky and shy, kind of.

2.5 outta 5

Without the hat. There is absolutely NO CHANCES of Lysander wearing a hat. He's not like that.

Maybe a 3.5 I'm not sure.

So Ann.... OMG. Lysander is like.... nothing like that in the way I imagined him. He seems too.... poser-y and almost like a younger, more aggressive version of Pete Wentz. (not that I don't love the guy, I totally do, I'm like, a HUGE Fall Out Boy fan, but still)

I imagined Lysander as someone like those guys ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Let me know what chu thinks.

Colin was PERFECT though :) Good job!

It's total crap....

Here's that crappy video I was making earlier. I just chose random pictures from my computer, tee hee.

What do you think?

So, as some of you may know, I am promoting (and failing at it) my novel, Our Last Goodbye.

Our Last Goodbye
Short Pitch:
What if the one who left you, came back?
Long Pitch:
Melody has known Dylan all her life, it was no surprise they started dating in the seventh grade. In their second year of high school, Dylan’s mom takes a job in California, which happens to be on the other side of the country and Melody is left heartbroken. Now, two years later, Melody hasn’t heard anything from Dylan since he left, but she has something to remember him by. She’s changed a lot though, dating her Drama teacher and then having a messy break up with him, which leads to failing grades in his class. And then as if that isn’t bad enough, Dylan comes back, expecting Melody to fall into his arms, but unfortunately for him, she’s not the same girl he used to know; or is she?

Random Excerpt:

I got to my locker right on time. I shoved my bag in and then headed to my first class, math. Halfway through, a student came in. She gave the math teacher some papers and then left.
“What’s that?” One of the students in the front row asked.
“Mr. Morrison marked your skits,” Our teacher held them up. “Hand those out, would ya?” She put them on the student’s desk. When I got mine my jaw dropped. “F” it read. I flipped through the three pages. There were no spelling mistakes, no comments, nothing. I clenched my teeth, what was wrong with Mark?
After math I headed to, fuck my life, drama. When I got there I slammed my paper down on Mark’s desk and hissed at him.
“What the hell did I do now?” He glanced up from his book.
“Miss. Skellings, hello, pleasure to see you again,” He smiled at me. “What’s going on?”
“You bloody well know what’s going on!” I shoved my paper at him. He looked at it and winced.
“You really fucked that one up didn’t you?” He asked, a grin slowly forming.
“But why?” I asked.
“I said I wanted at least four scenes, you gave me three,” He said, opening his book again. I snatched it away from him.
“Wha-“
“If my writing was so good that you didn’t have to correct it at all, wouldn’t that make up for it? I mean, it’s about quality, not quantity, right Mr. Morrison?”
“Yes, but it said on the rubric ‘at least four scenes’” He said.
“Tell the rubric to go fuck itself,” I handed him back his book and walked to my seat, pissed off. I saw that the girl who sat in front of me left her skit on her desk. I grabbed it quickly and thumbed through it, two scenes, and she got an A. I flung it back on her desk and leaned back in my seat.
“Class! Class! I have to get this lesson started people!” Mark called from the front of the room. The kids stopped talking and looked at him.
“Thank you,” He smiled, “Now, I haven’t told you this yet, but we’re getting a transfer student today, he’s from the other side of America, so I expect you all to be very kind to him.” I scoffed, like I was going to be nice to some random kid because Mark told me to.
After that, Mr. Morrison started his lesson. Halfway through, there was a knock at the door.
“Start taking notes on act two in your books,” He said. Then he went to the door. I picked up my pencil and started thumbing through my book. The class was dead quiet. I could hear Mark talking to the new kid at the front of the class.
“You can sit over there, behind Melody,” The kid mumbled something back and then walked over and sat behind me. I saw his shoes as he walked by, they looked familiar. I didn’t bother looking up from my work; this guy probably wasn’t worth it anyways. When I turned the page in my book I heard him clearing his throat from behind me.
“So, I heard they got a new drama teacher here, but I didn’t think he’d be this young,” I rolled my eyes. Then I realized he was talking to me. I turned around in my seat and opened my mouth to say something, but then I stopped. The boy sitting behind me was someone I thought I’d never see again: it was Dylan. 

And here is zee cover: 

Let me know what chu thinks :)

I FOUND IT!

It as in the perfect lyrics to describe Untitled. Yes, Untitled by Simple Plan DOES explain it. But the following Mayday Parade lyrics do as well:

How can you think that any of this was easy
With all the friends I've lost along the way?
When this is over, we're all getting older now
And we all play a part in it
Innocence is falling, can you hear them calling now?
But I'll be by your side until the end

Me loves that song :) Mayday Parade is like, one of my favourite bands so when Mom told me that I couldn't go see them this summer with All Time Low I totally got angry at her. She's so mean to me!!!! *wails* 

Anywho, enough about that. I haven't written anymore of Untitled. Sorry Ann, no Colin just yet! But he'll be here soon enough, I promise! 

Damn, I don't think I've even blogged this consistently before. Let's see if I can keep it up!  

There's More!

So I wrote some more of zee story today. It's not alot, but I'm now promising to post whatever I've written as soon as possible! So yes, you have that to look forward to! (It's not even that great)


Chapter 1 cont.

Showing up at my girlfriend's house at three in the morning was becoming a habit for me. She didn't mind though; living on her own gave her the right to have people over at odd times. She had turned eighteen a few months before me. The day of she'd moved out and gotten emancipated. That was in May, so she'd been running her own business for about three months.   

She knew I'd probably show up sometime around two and four so she left the door unlocked then. I snuck in and walked to the kitchen, where I knew she would be.

“Thank you very much,” She said. “Yes, I'll have it for you tomorrow; you can pick them up then. Thank you! Bye.” She hung up the phone and saw me. “Hi Lysander,”

“Hey Jess,” I said. She picked up the icing bag on the counter and continued icing the cupcake closest to her. I was pretty sure they were for my birthday. There were slightly oversized too, so she could write messages on them. I stood behind her and looked at them.

Some said simple things like, “Happy Birthday” and “I ♥ Lysander” but there was one that was quite odd. I pointed to it.

“What's that one?” She looked up.

“Which one?” I continued pointing.

“The one that says 'ILYMTWCS'. What does that mean?” I asked her. She blushed.

“Oh,” She said quietly. And then in the same volume she said, “I love you more than words can say.”

            I blinked. Things were getting really awkward between us now; it was like she knew I was going to break up with her. There was no way she could’ve known about me running away though, since it was a spur of the moment thing.

            Jess was a wonderful girl, of course. But since she was a part of the cheerleading squad she felt like she had to do all she could to fit in with them. Even if it meant dating me secretly. None of her friends knew about her emancipation, or her baking.

            I looked at her. “I came to tell you something.” She smiled at me.  The lighting in the room made her skin look even paler than it was.

            “I’m leaving.” I told her.

            “What do you mean?” Jess wiped her hands on her apron and ran over to me. “Where are you going? Why?”

            “I don’t know where I’m going yet.” I told her. “And I just feel like it. I want to get out of this hellhole.” Not the complete truth, but it was all she needed to know. It would make sense to tell her about my parents since she hated hers but there were just some things I couldn’t tell her. Like about how she was such a bitch to everyone when with her jock and cheerleader friends.

            “You think somewhere without me would be better than here?” She asked, her voice slightly cracking. She always lived for drama, which is why she fit in with them better than me.

            When I didn’t answer right away she gasped. “You do think that, don’t you?” I said nothing. “Well, I don’t think here would be better without you. Or anywhere without you for that matter!”

            I turned away from her and considered the possible consequences of my next move.

            When I turned back she was throwing all the cupcakes away. I frowned at her.

            “Does that make you feel better?” I asked out of curiosity.

            “I hate you Lysander.” She told me, flipping me the finger. I could tell there were tears in her eyes though.

            “Then in that case, yes, Jessica.” She wiped her tears away with the backs of her hands.

            “Anywhere would be better without you.”

XXX

Thank you to Sarah/Ann/You have to tell me what to call you or I'm going to keep on doing things like this! for helping me develop Jess's character :) You're a great co-author!