the song that inspired the title of hard love. it really rings true to me, about falling for the wrong people and all. i just have to post it.
i remember growing up like it was only yesterday,
mom and daddy tried their best to guide me on my way.
but the hard times and the liquor drove the easy love away,
and the only love i knew about was hard love.

it was hard love, every hour of the day,
when christmas to my birthday was a million years away,
and the fear that came between them drove the tears into my play,
there was love in daddy's house, but it was hard love.

and i recall the gentle courtesy you gave me as i tried
to dissemble in politeness all the love i felt inside.
and for every song of laughter was another song that cried,
this ain't no easy week-end, this is hard love.

it was hard love, every step of the way,
hard to be so close to you, hard to turn away,
and when all the stars and sentimetal songs dissolved today,
there was nothing left to sing about but hard love.

so i loved you for your courage and your gentle sense of shame,
amd i loved you for your laughter and your language and your name,
and i knew it was impossible, but i loved you all the same,
though the only love i gave to you was hard love.

it was hard love, it was hard on you i know,
when the only love i gave to you was love i couldn't show.
you forgave the heart that loved you as your lover turned to go,
leaving nothing but the memory of hard love.

so i'm standing in this phone booth with a dollar and a dime,
wondering what to say to you to ease your troubled mind,
for the lord's cross might redeem us, but our own just wastes our time,
and to tell the two apart is always hard, love.

so i'll tell you that i love you even though i'm far away,
and i'll tell you how you change me as i live from day to day,
how you help me to accept myself and i won't forget to say,
love is never wasted, even when it's hard love.

yes it's hard love, but it's love all the same,
not the stuff of fantasy but more than just a game.
and the only kind of miracle that's worthy of the name,
for the love that heals our lives is mostly hard love.

i hope you had the time of your life

i spent most of today, once i got up, reading a book that has way too many parallels to my life and the lives of people i know. hard love. incredible book. one character is a combat boot-wearing lesbian ani difranco fan zine writer with black nails named marisol. bitter sun. very similar to mara.

when things come together or there are lots of things that parallel my own life i get this really funny feeling like i'm looking at the world through a sheet of glass. my head starts pounding and my senses are on full alert but my mind is all fuzzy and removed as i try to figure out how this could possibly happen and what it all means.

the part of the day i didn't spend reading i blasted greenday and ani difranco over the computer speakers because nobody was home except me.

and i think maybe i'll start a zine, just to put random writings and drawings in. i don't know. i doubt i'm actually creative enough to pull that off.

wow. dinner tonight was like a replay of day of silence, only i was the only one not talking. kit and i started going after each other over pottery and dad told us to just lay off it for a while so i just clammed up. didn't talk for the rest of dinner. trying to explain to my sister how i knew what pottery equipment her school has was interesting. it was so much like trying to communicate on d.o.s. kit kept purposely misinterpreting everything i signed to her. it was really hard to not laugh and of course there's dad laughing right across the table from me. i silently asked him whether i could talk again and he said, "well, it's very amusing..."

life in this asylum really cracks me up sometimes.

and i so made dinner tonight. pasta. and i wiped the table, which nobody has done in nearly a month, and got out new napkins for everybody. i felt all...responsible.

and of course now i'm sitting here listening to pirated greenday songs and posting my thoughts on the web.

funny how that works.

today was brilliantly wonderful and so fucking surreal. the full reality still hasn't hit me: at 2:35 the term ended.

today was: tossing the "tuffet" with caddie and caitlin, climbing down onto the roof of the sixth grade lockers with caddie and sitting there talking, sitting on a bench with caddie and carey talking, making plans to get together for breakfast during finals week, walking to the train station, stopping for a smoothie at a café on university avenue, having two complete strangers lend me change to help pay for the smoothie, being complemented on my hair by another complete stranger, paz and laura noticing my multicolored eyes, shane coming to school and bringing up laura j. in conversation, everything from all year coming together and being connected.

it's nearly over. i still havent managed to quite grasp that.

fuck you and your untouchable face
fuck you for existing in the first place

do you have the time
to listen to me whine
about nothing and everything
all at once
i am one of those melodramatic fools
neurotic to the bone
no doubt about it
it all keeps adding up
i think i'm cracking up

at one this morning i will go to bed so as to get some sleep and finish whatever i haven't got done during period seven long.

i am now officially incoherent.

and surprisingly awake.

four and a half pages to go.

want sleep. need sleep. nearly unable to function.

this may be close to an all-nighter.

five hours and four minutes until i have to get ready for school.

classes that are over forever: gat, freshman p.e., english *sob*

what you need is a boyfriend or a dog
and what you need is a full time job

*sob* english one is over. this is so bad.

goldie has agreed to operation kidnap the english department. wheeeeeeee! holding them happily hostage at c*sti for a month or so and learning engish would be so good.

i'd much rather have english long with goldie tomorrow.

i really wish i didn't have seven free tomorrow because my mind keeps trying to persuade me that if i write four pages of this now, i can go to bed and then write the last two pages and proofread tomorrow during my free long. but i can't do that, because if something went wrong i would be so screwed.

ms paick already has no faith in me. i don't want to reinforce that.

today in advisory we filled out those little advisor request forms for next year and next to ms. paick's name i didn't even put a mumber, i just wrote "NO."

if she's my advisor next year i swear i will scream.

what i am doing right now: checking people's blogs
what i should be doing: writing that history paper i have yet to start
what i want to be doing: choreographing dance to refuge

term-time countdown: one day.

pages of history paper left to write: six.

term-time countdown: eight periods (scary!)

school is so not almost over.

there is so not only one english class left.

matt savage is so not on campus.

i so don't have to go home today.

the circle is so not wet.

we're going to abolish everything except english and then take the english teachers hostage and make them teach us english all day/week/month/summer/year.

people not allowed to leave: ms goldberg and ms kirk

term-time countdown: two days.

something about my house depresses me. i don't know what, but something makes me tired and lethargic and depressed pretty much as soon as i walk in the door. maybe it's the almost eleven years of memories haunting this place. maybe it's the lack of decent food. maybe it's the lack of friends. maybe it's the parents and the sister.

i think mostly it's the memories, both good and bad. the bad ones depress me simply because they're depressing, and the good ones depress me because the remind me of how simple and happy life used to be.

my room is where my parents first told me they were going to get a divorce, when i was seven. it's also the room i shared with the supreme brat until i was eight. when i was younger and my dad was still an abusive alcoholic he once forced open the door to my room which i was trying to hold shut and in doing so threw me hard into my closet. my back hurt from that for weeks.

the hall outside my room is where my mother spanked me, the one and only time she ever did. it's also where i got into a huge fight with my mother a while ago that resulted in my telling her to leave and her packing a suitcase and heading out the door.

the guest bedroom is where i slept one time when i had the flu so bad that i almost went to the hospital. it's also where one of my parents sleeps when they've had a fight.

the bathroom...i guess i don't have many memories of the bathroom. maybe the frustration of not being able to put in my contacts. the annoyance of my sister.

my parents room is where i spent most of my time when i was sick with chicken pox. ick.

the front hall is where i got in another huge screaming match with my mother recently.

the living room is where many battles have taken place over possession of the computer and also where i was when the earthquake hit. which isn't really a bad memory but whatever. i remember playing my parents old ecords on the stereo before it broke, and trimming the christmas tree when we still celebrated christmas all family-like.

the front porch is where my father once threatened my mother with a hoe. it's also the site of many dead gophers left as offerings for us by the cats.

if i walk into the back yard i see the table, which my father once put an electric drill through when he was mad at my mother. also in the back yard is the dog kennel, which not actually contains dogs but which used to contain chickens, one of which my mother once tried to kill. fortunately he survived. this was not true of innumerable roosters named bob, all doomed and all named after my babysitter's ex-husband.

the dining room brings back memories of fights and tense dinners, homework undone and near-all-nighters pulled.

and the rest of my house (what little i haven't covered) is just as depressing.

from c&c yesterday:
Five mintues. Three minutes. Will this period never end? I know I’m supposed to be working but I just can’t. Japanese POW camps just don’t interest me right now. Two minutes. My slacker instincts have taken over again. I’m just sitting here writing this even though I haven’t even started writing my paper yet. One minute. Due Friday. Almost out of here. Coming here Thursday and I WILL actually work. Time’s up.

why am i such a slacker? i try not to but i always slack off and procrastinate. like right now, for example. i'm supposed to be doing a lab handout for bio which is due today but instead i'm (1)downloading music (2)blogging (3)listening to music and (4)attempting to write something totally not school-related. not what i should be doing but i am anyway. what else is new?

i don't know why, but this is my song of the moment.

i'm not the sort of person who falls
in and quickly out of love
but to you i gave my affection
right from the start
i have a lover who loves me
how could i break such a heart
yet still you get my attention

why do you come here
when you know i've got troubles enough
why do you call me
when you know i can't answer the phone
make me lie when i don't want to
and make someone else some kind of an unknowing fool
make me stare when i should not
are you so strong or is all the weakness in me

why do you come here
and pretend to be just passing by
allow me to see you
allow me to hold you
tightly...

if i choose now
then i'll lose out
one of you has to fall
and i need you
and you

i got in trouble during c&c today because i was supposed to be writing my paper but had nothing with me to work on so i goofed off all period and of course the one time ms. paick looks over at me during the period i'm watching an ooti video. mnergh. luck was not with me. that and she lectured me after the bell rang about turning things in on time. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. i hate c&c.

if we abolished history and science i would be happy to stay in school for a while longer.

fuck history. fuck math. fuck spanish. fuck art. fuck p.e. fuck bio. fuck everything except english.

things to kill/burn: biology, grammar, history reports, dress whites, ms paick, my sister.

i really want to sleep but i doubt i can.

sore from ballet. relationship just ended. bad day. want sleep. don't want to wake up even though i want to go to school tomorrow.

school has to be better than here, right?

anyway, no c&c tomorrow.

THREE FUCKING DAYS. THIS YEAR IS NOT ALLOWED TO END.

i haven't started writing my history paper yet. i've only watched my movie once. so academically screwed. ms. paick hates me and my slackerness. she's another candidate to be shipped to the penguins.

term time countdown: three days

a month and four days. that's a record for me. a month and four days of monogamy which is now unfortunately over.

we still intend to kiss in front of my sister, though, just to see the look on her face.

do i really want to post this? *ponders*

what the hell.

i'm single now, everyone.

wheeeeeeee. i was up till 3 am talking to tara. i love being able to follow my natural sleep patterns. my sis conked out at 12:30m fortunately, otherwise we would have been stuck talking about nothing for a very long time. there's something about kit that just makes us shut up about what we actually want to talk about, that being mainly girls. and boys every once in a while. tara should so have gone to c*stilleja, but it's a little late now 'cuz she's going to be a senior next year *sniff*. the upside to that is that she's turning 18 in november so i'll have someone i can easily persuade to drive me around.

i've known her since she was eight. and now she's a senior. why the hell are nearly all my friends older than me? it makes things really difficult because i always end up being the one left behind.

but i'm not so sure about the easily shocked part.

okay, this really cracks me up, if only because of anne frank (even though it's spelled differently).




what's your battle cry? |
mewing.net | merchandise!