And the News is This

I can’t handle high school.

The Little Things

Sometimes you need to just cry. Sometimes there’s nothing else you can do. Sometimes everything is like an avalanche, and you just need to let it out. Be a volcano. Explode. Cry. Scream.

Sometimes you come to the realization that nothing matters. Everything you thought was so important, isn’t.

Don’t kill yourself, you’ve got too much to live for.

But what’s everything you’ll live for, even worth?

You’ve got so much life ahead. You haven’t even begun to live. Every day is beautiful.

Everyday plays a part in your suicide, all those inconveniences, too much homework, no ketchup, someone didn’t say hi….

Selfish. All of it is selfish.

When there’s nobody to go to, when you feel all alone in a crowded room. When they’re always talking, but never to you…when they smile in your direction, walk, walk, walk, past. Embrace it. Tiny sufferings. Tiny letdowns inside. Suck it up. You’ll be okay. Maybe it’s just not your day, week, month, year… But it will be your something.

You know how small little things can make you smile? Someone saying hello to you, or smiling. Getting a good grade, or finding a bargain. Help others experience those little, simple, joys. Say hi to somebody in the hall. Wave at somebody you barely know. Always keep a smile on your face.

And remember, it’s the little things that matter.

English, Mind Like a Mouse, & Tears

Everybody’s lips move behind me, annunciating the words they’re reading. They bring them alive in their imagination; lift the characters from the page.

Except, maybe, Jim. His mind is small like a mouse, and as fast. It scurries around inside his tiny frame, jumping from one subject to another.

Indeed, you could be staring out the window, and he taps you on your shoulder. Did you read the book? Replying will only provoke more questions, but if you don’t, you seem rude, and he tells the teacher.

School has just started, and my mind has already drifted off the page and outside, where robberies occur, and Canadians fry bacon. I wonder what everyone else is thinking. I wonder if they’re pondering the meaning of life, or if they’ve moved from that and onto death. Ashley’s grandma died. Maybe she’s missing her. Or maybe she’s pushed all her feelings down to her toes, and pretended like she doesn’t care. Pretended like she forgot. Pretended like she did, but she did not. I wonder.

The teacher just opened up the blinds, and the light blinds me. Some like it cozy, she says. Everybody else tells her they like it light. I don’t really mind. I like it light, but not blinding. Sometimes. I like the clouds, and curling up into warm blankets in the winter. In the summer, it isn’t so fun.

I turn and see Ashley still working on her book. Is your mind straying, Ashley? I ask, inside my head. I wouldn’t dare speak without raising my hand, even though the teacher’s good about it.

There are a few raindrops on the window, too many to count, but I’ll try anyway.

Some of them are smeared, some still perfect little beads, like pearls. There are more than fifty, spread across the window, and a little more, probably, on the other one. But the teacher won’t open that one. Too distracting, she says.

I look down at my arm and see a scratch. I don’t remember getting it, but I know that I have it, and I’ll remember when I first discovered that I had it.

An old scar, too, from the time when I made cookies and burnt myself on the oven. I burnt myself on the oven, last night, too. I made cookies.

I ran my hand over my arm, and felt bumps. Chicken skin? But I’m not scared. I’m scared of a lot of things, but I’m not scared now.

Death doesn’t scare me. I wonder if it scares Jim, or Ashley, or the cheerleader wearing glasses behind me named Shay. Shay’s nice. I tease her about being a cheerleader, but she’s really good. I put my lunch in her locker, and she didn’t have time to get back to me, until I found her practicing her kicks, and tugged on her sleeve, and made her go back and get it for me. My lunch bag is green, and I don’t want to lose it. I like it. It doesn’t scare me, like the leaning tower of Pisa.

Ashley’s done reading her book, but Hamilton is still working. Annunciating. I see her page, because she’s got the book turned towards me, talking to Shay.

The teacher passes out a worksheet, saying the words aren’t too hard. They’re all Spanish. If I remembered correctly, I’m in English.

Evan just turned in his homework. I guess he was late. He likes saying my name. E-va, he says, in a choppy, musical, robotic voice. I smile and say Schmitty!

When he passed by me, I looked up, my eyebrows furrowed. It was only because I didn’t know who he was. He doesn’t scare me. I like him. But not like that. I don’t think I like anyone like that. Except, maybe, the boy who passes me every so often in the halls. And when I see him, my stomach seems to explode in a billion butterflies, but I’m all right. I’m fine. I don’t mind. I’ll just continue to live my life.

Somebody sneezes in the back row, and a wave of twitters and giggles crash and move towards the front of the room. Go wash your hands. No! Defensive reply.

The tree looks so lonely, even though its twin accompanies it. If you shook it, it would cry little raindrops, from the fall last night.

But I only cry tears from my own eyes.

Kitty.

That’s Nice.

And the sign of arrogance is when you stay up til 5am reading your own blog.
They’re going to break the plates, but they don’t even care.  The knives should be left and not pounded – swallowed but not choked on.
Sanity is not easy to come by, but extremely easy to lose.  Just sit quietly at a table with the hubub and noise around you – you’ll soon lose your grasp on serenity.
And the funny thing is, no one cares.  You begin an important story, details galore, and you find their eyes growing orange with “I don’t care” poison leaking through their system.
“That’s nice.”
Tantrums come from chickens, but who really knows if the egg came first?  The mysteries of life are mysterious, as all mysteries are.
The toe and the nose are scratched with shoes and a thumb.  This would make a smart poem if it weren’t so dumb.
“That’s nice.”

Just Keep it Hush, Hush.

It’s 5minutes to 5am, and I’m chillin’ like a villain on my laptop, isn’t that cool?  The thing is, I opened the freezer and burnt my finger on the skillet, resulting in my mocktail spilling because it tasted like salsa. THEN, I got kicked because I didn’t log on to write you this message.
Perhaps it wasn’t in that specific order, but it happened something like that.
Every person I ever met who I got along with made my cell phone battery run out and flip the switch of the power board and make the computer shut down and lose all our conversations.
I miss somebody. Do you miss somebody? Raise your hands if you miss somebody. Then take a picture and send it to me if you don’t miss anyone.

The Friday half day of school on FRIDAY THE 13TH was an alright day.  I realized how much I fail at sticking to a group, wearing uniforms well,  being legit when it comes to scavenger hunts, opening a locker on the second floor (the fact that it’s on the second floor has nothing to do with the completely absurd and complicated-ness of the lock, I just thought I’d insert that in there so you’d feel even more sorry for me)…and what also came to my mind is the fact that it’s probably really creepy that every time you look at me, I’m smiling at you.
It’s 5:01AM, and I think I’m going to go for an all nighter…..MAYBE HEROES??? I’m a hero…
But yes, as I was saying, I’m not scared of school anymore.  I don’t even know why.  I’m pumped, psyched, and so ready for it to begin, and the challenge of it. :]
I told somebody that their high five was the first high five I’d gotten that day, but then I realized that I am a LIAR, because I told some girl that if she didn’t high five me, I’d high five her face…so she slapped m…y hand! fast. Apparently I’m more scary than she thinks she is ;] … I like french fries.

This has everything to do with school.

AH! Sorry, I’m sitting here kind of zoned right now.  This laptop will be the death of my posture.

Peace & Love

…Peace & Love, peace and love …it’s all I’m thinking of, yeah baby, peace and love.
I felt you needed two pictures, to just expand your whole peaceful and loving experience of my victorious heart sign.
Uh….morning?!?!?

And Oh, the Vines They Grow!

It took me awhile to come up with that title, just by the way.  Until I looked up at the window and GOT INSPIRATION! Inspiration is a cool thing.
I’m sitting here, on the sofa, where I usually sit when I blog now – yet there’s something extremilimely different about today.
I’m in my uniform. Yup, that’s right. I’m in a white polo, a plaid skirt, and converse….OH YEA! Nayway, as I was sitting on the sofa with my laptop on my lap x] ….I happened to glance up at the living room window, which recently has been due for a trimming of weeds on the outside x.X….and lo and behold! THE VINES ARE CREEPING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND INTO MY HOUSE!
Oh, the vines they grow!

Groggy (but still random)

The morning was awhile ago, but I just woke up. I also just stuck a cherry in my mouth, spit it out, looked at it, realized one spot of it was rotten, contemplated what Mom would do if I stuck it back in the bowl, then shoved it back in my mouth. Mmmmmmmmmmm! lol [;
HEY! I said LOL! Yayyy....twice today.... O__O I love you FIVE.
Alright, so our vacation, driving up to Oregon and back, was eventful. Although nothing I care to write about specifically now.. It's just that I was going to tell you a fuse burst, and it only does that because we now have a dehumidifier our basement which was covered in mold (but isn't anymore, thanks to the amazing dehumidifying) - and yeah. We aren't a cool family, though, because we don't have a basement....we have a crawl space! With a door in the floor. I couldn't think of the proper name for it, sorry XD ...trap door? YUP! Despite my previous statement about our uncoolness, I take it all back. We're epic. Even though that word is overused, I still like it;] ….lalalalalalalalala.
I went down into the crawlspace to flip all the switches on our fuse blower O_O and yea…I’m brave. Thanks for the recognition. I’m not exactly sure of WHAT these posts entail, what the point of them even is exactly. Boredom? Oh, Eva. That’s no excuse to waste the time of ALLL your beloved fans by reading crap that doesn’t even pertain to anything of importance.
Hey. I kinda sound smart. XD KINDA……wooop, woop. I noticed that I humiliate myself a lot. I think I’ll try out for the softball team to just expand the whole experience.
THE POWER JUST WENT OUT AGAIN…..this is the third time today that I’ve been on my laptop without it being plugged in. Granted, it can’t access the internet, but since I’ve been working on this post for more than an hour (I get distracted easily.  Too many shiny objects.), I still have this page up, so I can still type in it.  SLEEP WELL.
You have stolen my heart. My sister just came down in my skinny jeans… She’s GROWING T.T ah, it breaks my heart.
Haha, so I asked her why she was wearing MY jeans, and she says “I want boys to like me.”
….
Did I mention she’s 10? Alright, so I know our society has turned into boy loving freaks by the age of 5, but still…..I’m still single[; and never have been unso O_O so stop growing up so fast, little sis! Hehe. AND THAT INCLUDES ALL YOU OTHER GIRLS OUT THERE ……. just because you think it’s love, doesn’t mean it is….if you’re 13, what are you gonna do? Go out with him, pass up all the other guys who could just as well be your Romeo?- til you’re old enough to marry?
C’mon, get your heads out of the clouds….we don’t even KNOW what love is yet.

I keep getting all sentimental,  like teary when a song comes on….hehehe it’s weird. But I’m going to act on it.  I don’t think love is anything you can even fathom. Well, maybe….you just can’t measure it and figure it all out before it’s happened to you. You can’t even do it after it’s happened to you…..love is complex, nothing you can write down in a book and say “this is how it is.”
In fact, I think everyone’s experience of love is different.  And so, everyone’s relationship with God is different. God IS love, right?  There you have it.
And I have given it to you in a wooden box. CHYA! Don’t open it….. Groggy thoughts are alright, even though I’m not groggy anymore.
Alright, well I just had a blown up fight with my dad and my sister about my sister getting on my school laptop…..so, I concede. I’ll post tomorrow or later tonight.

CIAO! mrawr.<33

I’m Too Good for You

There! I said it!  And we ALL know it’s true. ;] just kidding, just kidding all mah peeps, I’m chill. No better than you, if not lower!!!  But I won’t get into that today.

TODAY I’m celebrating the fact that kind of officially I’m sort of a high schooler. Ah! I’m glad I didn’t name this, oh I don’t know… “Catholic Homeschooled Teens”.
Hehe, yes. I now attend a high quality (oh dear I’m sounding like my father) private Catholic high school, in the hopes that I might become more smarter.
And the whole reason for this post is that I’M ON MY NEW SCHOOL LAPTOPPPP *dances (as well as I can while typing)* and it’s cool. I mean, I never had much experience with this newfangled technological beauty called a LAP TOP (where does it sit? ON TOP OF MY LAP? WHAAA????) …so this is rather exciting for me. I’m delirious with ecstasy, actually.
Rebellious, is it not?- to not place my top upon my lap, but rather on the sofa?

I swear, I swear, Eva.  Soon you won’t be SANE! (if not today.)

But one part of the school that I’m sincerely glad of it’s existence (other than the lunchroom) – is the fact that IF you are having a bad day, you can request to go “awol”(A WALL!) with Jesus for about ten minutes.
I googled the term “a wall” to see if I’d explained it well enough, and here’s what came up:

1. An upright structure of masonry, wood, plaster, or other building material serving to enclose, divide, or protect an area, especially a vertical construction forming an inner partition or exterior siding of a building.

No uhhh fuuureakin uhh duh.  But there are less intelligent people in the world. I understand that. *looks down on you.*

ACTUALLY there ARE some people I can look down on in high school! I mean, seriously! Some are shorter than me!  But mostly they’re blond, tan, pretty volleyball players… I’d add “fit” but that sort of comes along with the volleyball…

I have a…..half day, I think, on Friday.  I’m cogitating what color polo to wear. White or blue? Decisions, decisions…. I’ll just ask my MAGIC 8 BALL!
It told me it wasn’t a good idea to go to Paris, though…. So I don’t trust it’s judgement! >:[

I still help Mom out with work every now and then. I’m pretty amazing, thoughtful, kind, loving, generous, nice, precious and inneedofmoney like that.  I’m planning on buying every CD that I’ve gotten from the library that’s still on my mp3 (from this day forward known as “Vincent”) and for THAT big of a plan (1000+ songs) I’ve got to have a BIG wallet and a BIG hunk of cash in that big empty one that I have already.. T.T

After all, you’re my wonderwall.

WALLS AGAIN! WHAT IS UP???? wait… I started it… shhhhh….. I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.
A few things I don’t completely adore about my laptop is that you don’t get a free snow cone after using it.  And they block Facebook. And the speakers aren’t very loud!!!!! ….you’re gonna be the one that saves me.

Okay, Mom’s getting ready to go, so I should wrap it up. WAIT. BRB!
…Back.. Iwas hoping it would be something like “Eva, you’re such a great daughter, I decided I’d give you the 20 bucks without you even having to help me. Here you go. Now go sit on your laptop! I LOVE YOU!”
but no…. “Eva, start taking stuff out to the car.” in other words, this was my polite way of telling you I have to GOOO!!!! hehe… roar.
I think I’m goingto be posting more, though….maybe… I’ve got some thoughts I need to let out (the common letdown is “no one listens” but mine is opposite; EVERYONE listens, and they don’t need to!  And they don’t need to take everything so dang serious, too! I’m a freaking teenager, hormones running marathons through my system. The end. So stop freaking out.)

OOoOOoOoOpsss……don’t read that… DON’T LISTEN! hahah xP

OKAY, wow, I just realized I didn’t say “lol” once. Even once! Hmmm…..am I another person???? O_O

C.S. Lewis.

And I’m outta here! Mrawr!<3

If That’s What You REALLY Call it…

In my honest opinion, I think not.
I think “family vacations” are really another form of Chinese torture.