I hate to be ungrateful...

I DON'T WANT TO PERFORM STUPID MAGIC TRICKS, I WANT TO SLEEP, FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!
There, I said it. Here I was, thinking incredibly moronic thoughts, and how stupid was I? Very very stupid. To think that people gave a damn. Well. I'm an idiot, I suppose.
Oh, even better! Well, you know, because being C F S I A L wasn't bad enough. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. No, you know what, you don't know what I'm going through, and quit trying to tell me you do. The worst part is nothing has changed how I feel. I heard tell this was supposed to get easier. It just got harder for me. Fuck.

Did it work?

Did it Hell! And after all that, I never did find out why today was so fucking important.
So tired, you guys. So hideously tired. And my step mother is being a bitch. I'm not gonna be online over the weekend, which kinda sucks, but whatever. Hmmm...what else should I talk about? Um...Lenguiney, my penguin butler. He's so cool. In my head.

I'll post a song later. Mayhaps tomorrow.

I'm so tired.

I'm beyond tired. I'm insane with tiredness. And it hits me in waves. One minutes, I'm laughing and giggling, the next there are tears in my eyes and my heart is breaking. Holy Fuck, I need some sleep. And I need to do this crappy homework. But first, a song...

They'll Never Be Goodbye-Minako "Mookie" Obata

Burning orange light slowly melt into the sky
Sparkles in your eyes a-glow
Cold and heartless walls and never ending sighs
When you held me close were gone
I'd had never known if you had never shown
Someday I'd have wings to fly
But who'd ever dream these arms were meant to break?
So I must go before you see me fall

I recall sweet enchanted days
Your smile chased the clouds away
All fragmant of a memory survive
Shining in a moonless night

Lifetime is a match; a momentary flash
Yet this forever remains
You are in my heart
Until my heart's not mine
So remember this never is goodbye

I recall sweet enchanted days
Your smile chased the clouds away
All fragments of a memory survive
Shining in a moonless night

Stay close to my soul like you're close to my hands
Darling if I fade away
You are in my heart
Until my heart's not mine
But I must go before you see me fall

So remember this never is goodbye
Please remember
They'll never be
Goodbye

I sang that last year for my choir final project. It's my favourite song because it is from my favourite movie, but never before did it have so much meaning. Damn.

I'm so tired. I'm crying I'm so tired.

I wasn't gonna tell.

I had a bad day, but an interesting one. I wasn't gonna tell anyone. It's my little secret. Anyway, I put on a big smile, and although my limbs feel heavy and my mind clouded with fatigue, I laughed and giggled and did all the stuff that is expected me. I couldn't forget it, though. I left the Pit after my spare, and saw Dave. He hugged me, and I knew I had to tell someone, in case it happened again. I don't know why it was Dave I told. He's great, but I wasn't going to tell anyone. But the long hallway reminded me, and I couldn't keep it a secret. I told him, and started to cry, except there weren't any tears. I guess I'm all out. I don't want to sleep. I don't want it to happen again.
In other news, I'm so fucking pissed off it isn't even funny. Nevermind why. All I can say is I have a burning desire to take a blowtorch to school. Except I don't have one. Damn...perhaps I can purchase one.
The weirdest part of my day was leaving the Pit after school. The hall was almost empty. I walked slowly, and a girl I don't even know asked if I was okay. I smiled and said "Yeah, thanks." It was kinda nice. I guess I must have looked pretty rough by the end of the day.
Okay, I gotta sign off now. Special thanks to Dave, who actually gave a damn.

And the days go on and on.

Ah, winter, we meet again. Why won't you go away? I miss the flowers terribly.
So, I'm pretty mad at myself, and whatever forces control the flow of creativity that I sometimes drown in-oooh, poetic. For many a day now, the waters have ebbed. It isn't fair. I found a puddle yesterday, and splashed my feet in it, and drew a robot elf in an alley with a litter of abandoned kittens. I liked it all but the background. But when I came around this morning, waking from a wretched dream, I found the water had dried and I was again left thirsty. Julie asked me to draw her. I said I would have it ready by today, but I accidentally on purpose messed it up to buy me some more time. Turns out Julie was away today. Oh well. I wouldn't have felt right giving her a drawing I don't feel I've done my best at. She is my friend, after all. But it's like having to give someone a drink, when the metaphorical well is dry. But I told Julie it would be done, so I am obligated.
I think I caught something off of the Pit floor, because after lunch my throat became itchy, and now it as sore as anything. Probably just dry, I haven't had a lot to drink today.
I'm terribly tired. Allow me to tell you why. Whenever I sleep, I have a dream. They are all different, but they have some key players. It takes place at the school, and a whole bunch of crazy stuff happens. Things I can hear, see, touch, even taste. And it's so realistic. The dream I had last night, I was smacked in the face, and I could taste the blood in my mouth. I pushed someone, and felt their body resist against my hands, and then give way to gravity and felt the vibrating thud in my feet as they landed on the floor. These dreams are usually fairly violent, but they always end up with me having a conversation with someone who I cannot see, just a voice as I stand in the Pit, sometimes the theatre, always alone. A familiar voice. It's eerie.

Me: Hello?
Voice: School's out. You should go home.
Me: Where is everyone?
Voice: Everyone is gone.
Me: No, they aren't. They were here a minute ago.
Voice: Yes, they are. You hit one of them.
Me: No I didn't...no..wait. I did hit one of them.
Voice: Why did you hit them?
Me: Because I was mad at them.
Voice: Why do you refer to them as "them"?
Me: Um.
Voice: Are you afraid to tell me who?
Me: A little.
Voice: I already saw. Why were you mad?
Me: You ask a lot of questions.
Voice: So do you.
Me: Why did they leave?
Voice: School is over. Everyone went home.
Me: It's only lunchtime. I bet they're in the hallway.
Voice: You could look there, but you wouldn't see anyone.
Me: Not even the band geeks?
Voice: Not even the band geeks.
Me: What would I see?
Voice: You would see a figure in a black cloak with no face, coming towards you, floating above the ground.
Me: Be quiet! Stop stop stop!
Voice: Does that scare you?
Me: Yes!
Voice: Sit down.
*Here I sit, whether on a couch or in the Happy Hidey Hole.*
Voice: That scares you a lot.
Me: Yes, it scares me a lot.
Voice: I knew that.
Me: What scares you?
Voice: I'm a disembodied voice. Nothing scares me.
Me: Are you a ghost?
Voice: Kind of. Scared?
Me: No. You don't scare me.
Voice: I should.
Me: What the Hell is that supposed to mean?
Voice: I know quite a bit about you. You probably wish I didn't.
Me: I wish a lot of things.
Voice: What?
Me: I wish I knew where everyone was.
Voice: School's over, they all went home.
Me: No, it's lunch. They were here a minute ago.
Voice: You scared them away.
Me: No, I didn't!
Voice: You did. You hit them. You pushed them.
Me: One of them smacked me.
Voice: After you pushed them.
Me: They started it.
Voice: How childish.
Me: I'm childish.
Voice: Why did you push them?
Me: They were in my way.
Voice: Where were you going?
Me: Away. Far away.
Voice: Did it hurt when they smacked you?
Me: Yes.
Voice: Would it have hurt less if it was someone else? Not them?
Me: Yes.
Voice: I know who "them" is.
Me: You aren't going to tell anyone, are you?
Voice: I don't talk to anyone else.
Me: Of course you don't.
*Footsteps, either in the Pit or theatre, wherever I'm not.*
Voice: It's them.
Me: It's them.
Voice: You should go talk to them.
Me: They don't like me very much.
Voice: There's only one of them.
Me: It's the them I hit. The them I pushed.
Voice: The them who smacked you.
Me: Yeah.
*They say my name.*
Voice: They're looking for you.
Me: They want to smack me again.
Voice: Probably. You're annoying.
Me: What?
Voice: You're really pathetic.
Me: Get lost.
Voice: I'm protecting you from them.
Me: Where were you when I was getting smacked?
Voice: Watching.
Me: I told you they didn't go home.
Voice: They'll leave soon.
Me: I hate you.
Voice: I don't hate you.
Me: Well, I hate me then.
Voice: That's not true.
Me: Says you.
Voice: Why do you hate you?
Me: Meh. They've gone.
Voice: Didn't you want them to stay?
Me: Yes.
Voice: Why?
Me: I don't know.
Voice: Did you want to appologize?
Me: No.
Voice: What did you want to do?
Me: I just wanted to look at them. Quietly. Not disturbing them.
Voice: That's creepy.
Me: Yeah.
Voice: You're really pretty.
Me: That's creepier.
Voice: No, really. You have nice hair. You should wear it down.
Me: Nah. On a bet.
Voice: You still play with ponies?
Me: Mmmhmm.
Voice: What are their names?
Me: Marlog and Cfsial.
Voice: Those are stupid names.
Me: What's your name?
*A pause. I feel hands around my neck, and I can't breathe.*
Voice: School's out. Everyone has gone home.

I remember it in such vivid detail, because I just had it again not ten minutes ago. Lucky me. All that occurs at the end of my dream, whatever that may be. Even if I've only slept fifteen minutes, it happens. Good God am I ever tired. I don't feel rested at all.

Crash and burn, Martha Stewart.

Hopefully this means the end of the evil empire. Although there is always a chance it will rise again.

So tired that I can see the wind...

Yes, my beloved readers, I am so tired I can see invisible things. Doesn't that just ruin my day.
Actually, I'm pretty okay. Anthony made me laugh today, and so did Kids in the Hall...but I would do anything, up to and including slaughtering a litter of kittens for a good sleep. I keep having dreams, awful awful realistic dreams. You guys have no idea how tired I am. I may seem bright eyed and bushy tailed, but don't be fooled. I want to breakdown and cry.
I stood at the art window and looked out...then lied about what I was looking so wistfully at. No one must know.

I can't understand...No I can't understand...

Hmmm. I don't really know why I'm blogging. I guess I'm just trying to waste time. I still haven't done my accursed homework, or anything else that needed doing this weekend. As tired as I am, I can't go to sleep. I can't. I'll just sleep tomorrow at lunch in the Happy Hidey Hole. No one ever bothers me there.
Dear God, am I dreading tomorrow. More than one can imagine. I don't want to have to face the day.

I wake up in the morning and I wonder...

Well, should any of you speak to me today, be forewarned; I am in a really really really bad mood. Why, you may ask? It's none of your God damn business. So let us have a quick, short, creepy poem I just thought up. Yes, that sounds like a jolly good idea.

Would you?
Would you come to my bed if I was sick?
If I was sad, would you come to my side?
And I have to ask for my own sake;
Would you come to my grave if I died?

There. I've added a little bit more depressing poetry to the world. Good for me.
So, I'm not doing anything today. I have no social life. I'm tired and I have homework to do. And a social test to study for...Jesus Christ...