The Adventures of Lent

Well, for all you guys who are used to me putting up posts about my conflicted inner-self, sorry, but I have a feeling this post will be a bit different. ;)
Life has been amazing and wonderful. I'm sorry that I haven't really posted in awhile, but honestly, I've just been too busy and couldn't even think of what I could say on here. This Lent has truly been one of sacrifice and reflection.
Oh, and I really want to apologize. It seems as though I've given up some of my dear friends for Lent as well. I'm really sorry, everything has just been well, basically an ongoing cycle of motion? I guess that's what it can be called...LoL
Right now, it's Easter, and I feel so happy and at peace. :) I'm munching on my cheese stick typing this post while my little sister finds batteries so we can play Super Mario Bros. on the Wii, and listening to "Hello/How are you?" by Piko Utatane. Yes, I'm a Vocaloid fan... <3 <3 <3
Hmm where was I? Oh right. Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent, was when everything was turned upside down, when I didn't get accepted into the music department of the college that I had decided was going to be the one that I'm going to. That first week was really just one where I was thrown into darkness and what I thought I wanted and what I had come to believe about that one thing became distorted. I felt so jumbled inside, just trying to find myself. I was foolish. I told my mother something along the lines of "Well, what if this is all only what you want for me, and not at all what I want." That kinda caused some problems, that was the night I cracked I suppose. (You can refer to the post about how I just wanted them to listen to me) I guess, I was stressing out so much because I haven't found myself in reality, and what I thought I wanted at the time wasn't given to me, and I was trying to figure out why that was. Maybe it boggled my mind so much to the point that my internal self couldn't handle it anymore, and I just burst.
So, then I journeyed on through Lent, searching. Trying to find pieces of my life and more importantly, my faith. Also, trying to amend all the wrong that I had done. I'm pretty sure I hurt and worried my family and friends during my meltdown state. I was so confused about everything, that after my meltdown, I kinda just wanted to avoid the subject for awhile. I began to focus on the other things of life, but at the same time I was still pondering about what's going on. I guess in the midst of my pondering, time seemed to have sneaked up on me.
Funny, what I had given up for Lent, such small sacrifices (Facebook and cheese), by the time Easter came, sure it was nice to see what all my updates were and to indulge myself with such creaminess again, but it really wasn't the reason why I was happy. The good Lord is supposed to lead us THROUGH the valley of death, right? Meaning to say that we go in, but we also get out. Easter is the reassurance for me, that I am going to get out of this, alive. For all of you who don't believe, there truly is a God out there, and he's gentle, loving, and kind. He won't give you something that you can't handle, and no matter what happens, He still unconditionally loves you.
My life, and everything that I had thought was to happen in it, has really been shaken. But you know what? It's okay.

I know this...it's me...it truly is, me.

No, seriously. Last night, I was trying to distract myself by going on Google and typing in random things into the search bar, and I came across this website.

http://www.queendom.com/advices/advice.htm?advice=222

It surprised me a tad bit, and in some parts of it, I recognized a bit of myself. Although, I'm pretty sure that a whole lot of people could relate to that, so who ever reads this, I strongly recommend looking at it and see if you could relate.
Anyways, after some thinking, crying, and abusing myself, I've come to...well, not crying and abusing myself for one thing. However, I've been thinking, a lot. Ever since my reluctance to get out of bed this morning, I've been thinking...my eyes were even leaking on the way to school. I really didn't want to go to school today, but I figured that I needed to be away from home for awhile, and school was my only reasonable alternate. Physics was torture. I failed a test. It was so cold in the room, that my ankle I had sprained several times began to hurt and my head began to throb (my body gets crazy when I've been cold for a certain period of time). I could barely focus on anything, and when I tried to focus on the problem right in front of me, all I could think about was the most dramatic thing in my life's list of current events. Truth is, I'm still really shaken by what happened. I'm so afraid to approach.
Last night I painted my nails blue. Blue is supposed to release calming hormones into the brain. I also have a blue hair band that I've been wearing around my wrist, so that if I go nuts inside my mind I simply pull it by the metal clasp several times so that it slaps me back to earth. I also cut myself, but don't be alarmed. That was a complete accident, but a rather interesting one, in fact. I was working on an art project that just so happens to be scratchboard. This is where the paper (or board) that you are working with is black (darkness), and you have to scratch away the white, or whatever color is underneath the black (lightness). In order for me to scratch it away, I need to use sharp things, one of which (and my favorite one to use) is this scratching tool that looks like a "mini spear", although my friends tend to call it my "artistic shank". Let's just say that while the hand that was holding my mini spear went to go on my lap, it collided with my other hand, thus scratching my flesh. I examined my cut, and was oddly fascinated by it. The cut was perfect, as though I had scratched into my own flesh, which, in reality I did. But it looked just like the way it would on scratchboard, minus the blood. I checked the mini spear and saw that it had taken my flesh with it, since a wad of it was on it, and when I presented my findings to everyone, they all thought it was weird.
Well...back to my thoughts now that I've talked about my methods of coping with this...
I was so surprised to find that my male parental still acknowledges me. I was surprised really, and one of the reasons why my eyes were leaking this morning, was that I had come to the conclusion that I could have possibly given them a tremendous amount of pain and disappointment. If there's anything that I've learned from them, it's to always give people the benefit of the doubt, and to walk in their shoes for awhile, because no one knows exactly what anyone else goes through. Lately, I have been a selfish child. Yes, even though I wanted so badly for them to listen, I guess they thought that I was going to throw away everything that we had worked towards. Besides that point, my female parental still terrifies me, and after what she said last night, I don't think I can handle facing her, or even hearing her voice...at least, not now. Such cruelty, accusations, everything was so loud. Naturally he would side with her, although he didn't say much. But, this morning, I didn't even have to wake him up to bring me to school. And when I finally forced myself to get out of the house, he had packed a breakfast for me to eat. I didn't have dinner last night. I've noticed lately that whenever we would have silent car rides, he would try to break the silence by saying a little thing here and there. And this morning, he was checking on me, and was nice enough to not say anything to me when tears began to break through my somewhat emotionless treatment I was giving him and despite that, he was still patient with me when I would just shake my head at the questions he'd ask. I feel like such a terrible person. After I got my rejection letter, the next morning, taking me to school, he offered me sympathy. This makes me think of this quote I had come across a few years ago.
"Practice random acts of kindness. They will strengthen the fainthearted, confuse the hardhearted, and comfort the disheartened."
I suppose, my heart falls within every single one of those categories and my dad has been trying his best in little ways to let me know that he's there for me, and I've just been too wrapped up in trying to figure out my life that I haven't really taken the time to really stop and observe what's been happening until this morning. I'm such a horrible daughter.

I just wanted you to listen to me

You want to know why I want to have my earphones in my ears all the time? Because I don't like listening to the world, any of it. Tears burn, sobs stab into my chest. The word and the world is so confusing. I hate it. God, if you want to, you can kill me. I don't think I'd mind, just make sure my little sister, Lizanya, and Leah will be okay. I'm sick and tired of it. I just wanted to talk to them, for once. To give them an idea of what goes through my head. To let them know what I think, to let them know how I feel. I should have never done that, that was the stupidest thing I've ever wanted, the stupidest thing I've ever done. You want to know why I'm afraid to speak my mind? Would you like to know why I never put in my opinion unless I absolutely have to? And, if ever I get the opportunity to express how I feel, through words, my voice begins to become unsteady, along with my entire being, and I'm fighting back tears?
It's because once I finally muster up whatever courage I have to finally spit it out, what every person fears happens to me, I get shot down, by the people whom I consider to be very dear to me. I thought these people were supposed to be there for me, I thought they were supposed to help me, but they don't even listen to me. God, I'm growing weary, and I'm not sure if I can handle this, no. I know that I can't handle this. I just wanted to be heard. Is this why I feel so close to music and art? Is this why I'm so twisted up? Because I can never find a way to be expressive through oral words? I want to run away so bad, from everything. No one seems to truly understand the distress I feel, because I can't even express it. I know that may seem rather extreme and over dramatic, but it isn't to me. It's the truth. Why won't you listen? Why can't you ever take into consideration what I say? On the verge of my meltdown, all you can do is kick me? Why is that? Isn't it obvious? Isn't it apparent that I need help? Why can't you even let me live my life? I was just suggesting my thoughts. For once, I was wanting to share with them. I'm so scared. I hate it. I hate myself. Everything is my fault. I'm so stupid. Why did I ever dare to dream?

What is this?

Is it strange that I feel like I'm becoming distant from one of the people whom I have considered to have been one of the closest and dearest people I know? We don't have any classes together, or lunch, anymore. We rarely see each other, and I'm starting to see her change in so many ways that doesn't seem like her at all, or at least, "the person I used to know." I've been blaming it on the drama, because in reality it is partly to blame, but I'm having problems trying to see past my feelings of betrayal, distance, and indifference towards how things are starting to go now. It's okay whenever we have a chance to say hi, but, I'm not sure if I know how to deal with this. I've had friends come and go. Some who were so close to my heart, that when they left, it left gigantic wounds that had to learn how to heal. It really doesn't feel the same, and I can sense that it's happening. I find myself beginning to stray away from things and getting much closer to other things. The some of the friends who I considered to be the closet are becoming far away, and the ones that were never as close, are closer now than ever. Is it because of our different pathways in life? This could be a possibility. It's just that my ESP is starting to sense something, like I can see clues or foreshadowing of something lying ahead...

Trading Yesterday

Ok, well...I am slightly in Hopeless pathetic romantic mode. Due to an awesome friend's video, I looked into this one band am I think I'm in love. They are seriously an HPR band. Plus, they incorporate a bunch of different sounds, but at the same time still keep that "acoustic vibe". Plus, their lyrics are amazing. Once again, I have stumbled upon another band that has tapped into my frequency, being able to describe what I feel and what I wish to feel. They tug at my heartstrings and cause me to melt. Wow, I'm starting to sound quite ridiculous LoL
Well, lately I've been wanting to just be quiet. Talking, putting my two cents in, yada yada, today I just wanted to listen. I sat at the lunch table today, and was given the opportunity to be by myself for a little bit (that is of course, until my friends came). But, it was peaceful, and strange listening to all the voices around me that I usually don't get to hear because I'm too focused on other things. You'd think that hearing everyone talking all at once would seem chaotic, but they sounded distant, and yet you could still pick up on the other sounds. I've always tried to do this at other places, such as a mall or other place, and I always find it interesting.
How am I? I am good. How do I feel? I don't know how to feel, and if I do, I'm not sure why I feel the way I do. I'm not sad, but I don't know if I'm happy. I guess if there's an in-between, then that's where I've been for quite awhile now. Currently, I'm just waiting, for many things. I have to learn to not dread the unknown, not that I really do. I try to enjoy and take in every minute of life, so I guess I am one of those people who are willing to wait. Love is patient. Funny, that Bible verse has been following me lately. Maybe, GOD is telling me that I need to wait, and things will happen in time? I suppose...who knows. All of this couldn't possibly have happened due to coincidence.
Well, that's all my current rambling for today...sort of. I would like to mention a few things about art though. One of my guy friends said that art class isn't exactly true art, because we have to have assignments and what not, and we have to meet a specific criteria, etc, etc. This is very true. At first, I just brushed it off, but the more I contemplate on this, the more I come to realize that he's absolutely right. Well, for me, art is my method of expression. But, who is to say that art must be understood? Going though life, creating, writing, painting, singing, these are all ways of demonstrating how I feel, how we function, how we live. If art was intended for a means of expression, then why must there be rules of art? Why must there be barriers and psychological chains that cause you to feel limited because you must meet a certain criteria? I could go more in-depth with this, but at the same time, I wonder if the criteria is just a guideline, and in the reality of it all, your limitations truly are only to the extent of one's imagination. When it comes to creativity, that's how I like to view it, at least.