Judgmental

Being judgmental is one of those things that's just all too natural.
You look at her and you know the type.
Those blue eyes are just too calculating.
She's only luring him in to hurt him,
she's just like all the rest.

But she's powerful. 
Sometimes... you just have to take her side in things,
no matter what you really think,
even though you know you're only a tool in hurting him, too.
Even you are just like all the rest.
When will that kid catch a break?

Still, you don't like her.
You use her.
She's a pawn in your master scheme in trying to attain power.
But what you didn't realize is that everyone has your same plan for her.
She's been thrown down like you can't even imagine.
When will she catch a break?

The reality of what you've done,
the puzzle you've helped put together,
the map you've assisted in drawing,
the war you've joined in fighting...
the horror of it finally sets in.
And then, what excuse do you have?

Only,

"I didn't know the way those blue eyes could shine!"

Bluriness and Bruises

Right now I feel like an out-of-focus picture.

I don't really know what to look at--what to think.

All These Awkward Stares, and Yet No One Cares

I feel like this picture could tell an entire story if it wanted to.

Why doesn't anything make sense?

I wish the world really was black and white.  It would make things so much easier.

I'm tired of looking at all the little things that used to drive me wild with jealousy.

....because now I don't care.  I just watch on, helplessly rocking away my troubles in a corner.

Rivers and Roads

nothing is as it has been

Silence is Golden

This is completely unlike me, but I seem to be unable to lash out and scream for help.

I'm not okay.  Far from it, actually.  But I think I'm getting more independent, but almost to an extreme.

I miss talking to my friends.

I miss feeling like I had friends.

Featherstone

And my love is yours but your love's not mine
So I'll go but we know I'll see you down the line

I Own Many Leather-Bound Books...

It's funny how, for her, it only takes one book to get her sucked back in completely, as if she'd never given the pass-time up.  Her world is still bleak.  People still frustrate her to no end.  She still looks in the mirror every day and struggles to force her gaze to stay there, sensitive to the way her confidence is knocked right out of her, like the wind after one has been punched. 
Only thing is, when her face is buried in a book, none of this matters.  Even if it's only for a fleeting moment or two, she is somewhere else.  She has different problems.  She has different people who care about her, and, in this world, even the most skillful of authors can't explain every single little detail and emotion of every single relationship.  These are what upset her the most... and so she is grateful when the tiny things cease to exist. 
Even having different problems is a dream come true.  Out of them she gets to ponder the lessons they could possibly teach, and exercise her mind in trying to find solutions.  The beautiful thing is... she knows that all she has to do is take a step back and withdraw her mind, and none of it matters anymore.  Terrors and sorrows and tragedies and mysteries remain words on pieces of paper.  Beautiful, masterful, deep, consuming words on pieces of paper, that she hopes with every fiber of her being she gets to be a part of creating in the mystery commonly known as, the future.
She can feel her brain growing stronger with every word processed, every mental image created.  Her eyes are opened, her imagination expanded, her cocoon of the drab and serious thing called real life ripped off with her desperate hands.
At least for a little while, she is freed.  She does not care that others are staring at her, thinking her odd for spending her time doing such a "loserish" thing, in her own words.  She doesn't mind that her friends are having fun without her.  She does not care anymore that a certain boy is trying hard to attain her attention again... in fact, she'd rather he just left her be.  It doesn't matter that she is heavier than most of her friends, no matter how many extreme things she does to change this.

In that moment, her nose buried in a book, the giggles and snorts and screams of her peers turning into mere white noise, her mind soaring through a land of adventure and love and sorrow,

she feels light as a feather.

It's a Metaphor.

I'm just cutting things up into little bits... because I can.

Come on, guys, it's deep.  Quit mocking me.

Gazes Locked

I'm just a creeper in the fact that I notice almost every facial expression people make at me.  But there's one you wear frequently, especially as of late, that sparks my interest.  Something about the way you smile carefully, the way your eyes sparkle with a youthful sort of affection, and you don't look away until I do makes me think that... well, it just helps me believe that perhaps you actually think about me sometimes, despite recent goings-on.
Usually you choose to sport said expression when I'm being silly and loud and overly-excited with life.  Maybe you're just amused with my ridiculous antics.

Don't lose that look, okay?

It's one of those interactions with people that the rest of the world seems to take for granted.

Goals

Goals for the Week:

Think of others before you in every decision

Don't regret a single thing you eat.

Get grades up so much you can be proud of them

Make someones face light up like they make yours

Watch The Office and Friends as much as needed

Read scriptures every single night.

I promise you I am going to fulfill every single freaking thing on this list.

We Are Young

I know you’re trying to forget.
But between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies, 

you know I’m trying hard to take it back.

Free

Run free, kiddo.

Some Nights

Man, you wouldn't believe the most amazing things that can come from some terrible lies.

Loserish Moments of Highschool

There comes a time when one sits back and realizes... "My life is sorta pathetic right now, compared to what it once was!"

I suspected it to come in my 30's.

But here I am, 15 years old, going to bed at 6:30 on a Friday night, waking up at 5:30 on a Saturday morning... making enchiladas for breakfast and getting on the computer to write about stupid animal characters that aren't going to get me anywhere in life and only serve the purpose of distracting me from thinking about all of the fun my friends probably had without me the night before and will have later today.

And what are my fun plans for the day? 

Write poetry and other such things about a dead old man who made cartoons, and then use a glue stick to put said works of art up on a yellow display board, otherwise known as "Power of One."

When will my life begin again?

Master, The Tempest is Raging

Stay cool, kid.  The tempest will soothe itself...

eventually.

we can hope.

How Deep is Your Love

And it's me you need to show how deep is your love

You'll Never Know.

You'll never know how much it bugs me that, even though I am loved to infinity by so many people, you're included in that small group who just doesn't feel that way.
I don't think I'll ever be able to convince you otherwise.
I'm trying so hard to just relax and tell myself that I can't please everybody, that you're a scumbag of a person, anyways... but you just make it so hard.  Around you, existing feels like a strenuous task.  I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be that way.

I wish you'd just reflect on the outside what I know you to be on the inside.

It'd make it all too easy to stay clear of you.

Eyes on Fire

Suddenly emerging with grace.

Not Scared.

And I'm not scared of your stolen power....

I SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU ANY HOUR

What I Really Do

The House Under The Hill

Alone, I am nameless and fearless and faceless.
I see just my knees and two hands held in front of me,
mine for this lifetime, so kindly I'll treat them.
My blood pumps,
My lungs bellow,
So I will let them be.

Well Crap....

Those were a lot of years wasted.
If I had known that you actually would have rather been doing other things but just didn't want me to be upset, then I would have found somebody else.  I don't think you get this.... but I am not repulsive.  Actually, I have a lot of people who reach out to me.  I just knew that you didn't really have anybody else, and I liked you, so I chose you.
Believe it or not... my relationship with you is pretty much the only unhealthy one I've had.  It's driven me into the ground, trying to please you and get you to notice me in ways that I find out just make it worse.  Now you just see me in a way that nobody else does.
I'm not sure if it's you or them who sees an illusion...

I'm done with this.  I just want to be healthy and happy and satisfied for the first time in my life.  I hate caring so much about someone who really could care less at this point what I do.  I've been playing my cards wrong for too long.

So good-bye.  I'm going to try just being by myself for a while... physically by myself, rather than just mentally, like I always seem to be.  If you want me, please feel free to call.  I don't want to push you away.  I never want you to feel alone like I do.
 But so help me, if you do call, you better not be doing it just because you feel sorry for me.  It better not be because you want me to be happy.  I'm only going to if it will make you happy.  I refuse to be somebody you just play along with... no... that is an identity that I have never wanted for myself, even if I might have attained it.

Divine Nature

Every princess gets a fairytale...

Mine feels more like Greek mythology right now.

A Week of Lonesome

This here was a week of lonesome.
It was a week of mistakes,
a week of goals,
a week of frustrations,
a week of the most bitter tears,
and fond embraces I'll never forget.
This was one of those weeks where every day is a race,
a challenge where the end is completely out of view,
but apparently not out of reach. 
It was a week of growth,
of responsibility.
I fell down.
I tripped over thin air,
nothing to blame but my own clumsiness.
I am only realizing now that somewhere between all of the yelling,
all of the praying,
all the pleas,
the clenched fists,
the biting,
those laughs that sound more like sobs...
I got up.

It's been exactly one week.
One week that helped me to grow more than any other set of seven day's I've had the honor of experiencing.
I'm alive.
'm still kicking.
It'll be harder than that to get rid of me.

Pretty Ways

Even the most peaceful town was once a battleground...

I Am Free, but I Am Flawed

Seeing you yesterday helped me to realize something... yes.  You are absolutely fantastic and I love you more than anything.  Away from boys and school and stress, carefully avoiding serious or heavy topics, we managed to just... have fun.  Be free and excited in the simple company of one another.  It was very reassuring, to know that I wasn't completely crazy in the decision to make you so important in my life.

But somehow yesterday made me realize that the world isn't going to end once you leave.  You are fun and amazing and intelligent, but there are lots of other people with such traits.  I will have more time for other people like that.  You are going to grow up and go off and do amazing things... and I'm pretty sure you'll be eager to tell me all about it.  I'll have to make sure to actually do stuff so that I have cool stories to share, too. 

Knowing you has been.... more than a pleasure.

Now it's time that I repaid you just a little bit.  I need to let you go.  No, I don't mean completely cut all ties.  I can't help but feel a bit entitled to a skype call or a facebook chat every couple weeks or so.  I mean that I need to move on.

And I will.
You will, too.

Taking Out the Trash

If people could see me when I take out the trash... well, I would have even less dignity than I have now.

Imagine this for me.  It's rather dark outside, the streetlights emitting only a faint yellow glow on the rest of the world.  The white-noise of rain is heard, like shaking sprinkles of creepiness over a cupcake of doom.  Hesitantly, a door squeaks open.  This is only on the rare nights when someone else isn't convinced to do the work.  A hunched figure slowly emerges, peeking around the corner.  The whole scene is assessed carefully a time or two... or five.  One foot in front of the other.  It seems like it should be easy, but suddenly the whole world seems to be filled with murderers and rapists and feline predators, hiding behind corners and in the trees and in all nooks and crannies in existence.  The sloshing sound that comes with each footstep against the wet pavement sends a new shiver up her spine.  She arches her back, stands up on her toes, and holds her cursed load way out in front of her.
She rounds the corner, almost expecting to find someone waiting for her there.  It's surprising when she finds only darkness and precipitation.  Her steps and heart-rate quicken, almost in a race with each other.  The goal is so close... carefully she lifts up the lid.  A movie plays through her mind, about how there was a black hole secretly inserted in that one specific can by scientists hired by the government and it was just waiting for her to lift up that lid so it could suck her into its pit of terror and misery and crime and abuse and sadfaces.  No such pit exists.... not even the shock of a taunting gecko.
The way back is even worse in ways.  There is someone behind her... she can feel it.  Now they are closing in, getting ready to pounce and kill like a starving lioness.  Not her.  She has no intentions of being a zebra for that lioness to eat.  Her pace quickens into an awkward sprint, affected by the way she stays on her toes.  She holds her arms in close to protect them from any predators awaiting in the dark...

Bottom line, I look like a T-Rex chasing after a laser pointer.

A Secret Soap-Opera

The red water runs,
excuses are made,
the night screams with bitter silence,
and a demon or two is released.
Since when did self-discipline become so reckless?

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness.

Happy Are We

"Coree, why do you have to be so awesome?"

He makes me smile.  He's the only person who gets to see me at my very worst, and yet still he loves me.  I guess that makes him my best friend.  I am one lucky kid.

I'm Scared.

To Those Concerned People,

"Things are going to be different after she's gone!"

"Are you going to be sad when she leaves?"

Yuuuuup.

 "You'll have to make new friends!"

No way....

Please stop asking me what I'm going to do without her.

You know what the answer is.

We all know it will be sad.

Can't I at least pretend things will be fine?

A White Flag of Sorts

Croak.  The night is overcome with the proud singing of frogs, the fiddling of crickets, and occasional screech of bats.  It is mere white noise to her.  She shifts awkwardly into a new position, her skin feeling more like the burning sun than layers of protection. 

Carefully, she casts her gaze to her left with the slight tilt of her head, her eyes glittering with guarded deception.  She is not alone.  On her right is comfort, sanctuary, and honesty.... so much honesty, that, in fact, things can get quite bitter.  This one is asleep.  On her left is someone unknown and unfamiliar to her.  She usually can't tell if she is the best of any friends, a bitter competitor, or even a sworn enemy.  She can recall many times when this girl was the only source of security available to her.  A breath.  She blinks as her senses start to take over.... the scent of her is not unlike that of her mother, in that it instantly spreads a blanket of peace over her shivering body, no matter what tense encounter they may have had.

"I'm sorry...." 

Once the words are out it feels like running naked through a field.  She is vulnerable.  She is exposed.  She is wrong.  Her frail muscles all clench up tight.  Suddenly a mental connection is made, linking things together and making a bit more sense out of the puzzle which is her often irrational mind.  She is terrified of the ocean, heights make her want to break into uncontrollable fits of sobbing, being shorter than everyone else secretly releases inner rage, compared to her often mules appear meek, tickling sets in the instinct of complete terror, and she can't stand being wrong.
Really it's vulnerability of any sort that nags and tortures her soul.
The one piece of the puzzle that she can't seem to make fit anywhere is why she still loves having her waffles cut for her and being pushed around in grocery carts shaped like space shuttles.

A surrender of two simple words turns in to a peace treaty of four hours of confession and conversation.  It's as if the two are finally speaking the same language for the first time...She lowers her guard.  Suddenly she isn't the only one who matters.  Her eyes are open...

She can't help but wonder how long it will last.

How easy is it to disrupt a pattern that's gone on for years?

Stay Here, Okay?

 I remember a couple times without you there.
I remember being very lonely and just.... lost.
Well.  Perhaps it was only a coincidence. 

But I can't tell if I'm talking about your physical or mental location.
I think both.
I just want you to want to be with me...
and once you do, have it STAY that way for more than a week or two.
I don't think I can take another minute of feeling like I annoy you,
I disgust you,
you don't like my hair,
you think my clothes look funny,
you think I'm fat,
you think I'm stupid.

Some people tell me I'm beautiful.
Maybe it's a foolish thing--believing them on occasion.
But I honestly wonder if you agree with them and just don't say it,
or if my fearful suspicions are accurate.

Tell me what I'm doing wrong and I'll change it in an instant,
even if I do attempt to save face.
I think you know that.

"Bitterman, I don't want to be sad anymore.  I think tonight we'll throw a party..."

Escape.

Still Here

You say "but I'm still here, 

and that means that I love you, dear!"

Like No Other

I'm going to admit.  There is not a single person out there capable of making me mad like you do.

But then, I have to remind myself that there's not anyone out there capable of giving me absolute, limitless joy like you do, either. 

This is mainly a reminder to myself, but, I suppose you could stand to hear it, too.

I love you.

I Don't Mean to Intrude...

But, you know, I feel like if I'm allowed to press for information from anybody... it's you. 
Today I realized that you are scared of me.

Not in the traditional way.
You're scared of how my opinion of you could change.

In my head this was the sort of relationship where the tongue was tied down by nothing, being free to soar with whatever musings or secrets or thoughts or just... anything. 
That's what it is for me, at least.
But today I noticed that while you tell me lots of things... you conveniently leave out the bad parts.

Maybe you don't want to be a downer?
Maybe you forget them?
Maybe it's not on purpose at all.

Regardless, I think you're fantastic.  Though... you don't seem to believe me.

A Drop in the Ocean

Most nights I hardly sleep... don't take what you don't need from me.

Little Known Fact #2

I do love the color red, but I specifically and especially love red backpacks.  You might as well know that if you carry one, I've stared at it for an uncomfortably long about of time.  Probably more than once.

I Do Say,

You remind me of somebody I used to adore...

The Pink Bottle

A breath.

Her eyes are forced closed, a wave of sensory stimulation rushing through her by the intoxicating, peaceful scent of memories trapped in a small, squarish, pink bottle.

A knife.

The images of it flash through her head quickly.  Bathroom stalls.  Compasses.  Seminar.  All-nighters.  Jackets.  Hiding... always hiding.  She can feel the once constant ache inside of her chest.

A necklace.

The scenes change from darkness and extremities to ones of personal milestones.  She remembers what it was like to want so desperately to look pretty and normal... and have no idea how.  She sees that little silver necklace reminding her to be good hanging around her neck every single day.

An orange.

Such a simple organism, such an example of humility.  Cautious gazes locked, challenges issued, people staring, the whole world watching.  The taste of that hellish fruit still haunts her.

A curse.

Stupid.  Ungrateful.  Lazy.  Brat.  She flinches as the sound of slamming of doors and the crash of glass shivers up her spine.  She can still hear those nights... the words repeat over and over, chipping away bits of her wellness.

It only takes a blink to awaken her from her daydream into her own senses.  She continues rubbing the lotion into her skin, her eyes straying a few times to her reflection in the mirror in front of her.  Oh, how she'd love to believe that the person she's seeing is completely transformed from the girl with the pink lotion and the silver necklace.  That was a phase, she says.  I was so stupid back then, she laughs at herself.

Really she just learned how to cover that girl up.

Speaking a Dead Language

Oh I wonder, when did it all stop making sense?

She Falls.

But she falls short and the night explodes in laughter...

Dear 12 Year Old Coree,

I don't know exactly when this tragic transformation occurred, but, somewhere along the way... you learn how to lie.

You learn how to lie to impress,
to get out of trouble,
to lie well,
to lie badly for attention,
to lie about stupid things,
and... how to lie about important things.

If there is one thing I could change about us, it would be that.  Someday you'll realize that nothing is real.  You'll have friends because you lied about tragedies to get attention, you lied about skills to impress, embellished stories to amuse.... your whole life will be built off of lies.  You're going to have to face the facts that all you can do is wait for these people to move on without you so that you can try and be more honest with the next batch of loved ones.

Some of these people are ones you want to know and love forever and a day.
You'll dig yourself into a hole so deep that you can't even see the surface light anymore.
You're going to mess up your one and only chance with them, while they're completely oblivious that you did anything wrong with them.

It's a hard pill to swallow.

Please... just... be honest. 
You might be less interesting.
You might get grounded more often.
Your life might sound much less tragic.
But it will be real.

Blue Jeans

You fit me better than my favorite sweater...

Dear Boy Down the Road,

Hey.  I hope you're doing well.  You're probably just dandy.... been pretty busy lately, huh?  I know.  But I'm talking to you right now to discuss something else.  I just wanted to let you know that you don't have to worry about me anymore.  I don't really care at this point.  You seem to be doing just fine without me, and honestly, I'm doing just fine without you. 

I've finally realized that if you don't want me, then there's no point in wanting you.

I can see the one I will end up with.  He's The Man Who Will Be Next to Me, rather than a Boy Down the Road.  He's tall and thin, though still more filled out than you are.  He's got a scruffy beard and untamed hair.  He enjoys plaid shirts just as much as I do, thinks mine is the best cooking in the world, and cuts down the firewood for our cabin in the forest.  Most importantly, I'm his favorite person in the world, and he is mine.

So.  Continue on in your boyhood.  Someday you'll be exactly what a girl needs, like you once were for me.

Best of luck,
Corenna Jellybeana

Checkpoint Reached!

Few.  I've gotten through this week.  There is no doubt it was.... well, hellish.  But now I feel like I'm sitting above all of those demons and trials, the quicksand and pitfalls, able to take a breather and just reflect.  I am safe... for now.

Dear Older Sister,

I find you to be absolutely fantastic.  Though often I pass the time by getting under your skin just to get a reaction, and sometimes I try and make you feel like a bad person, and I make faces and snide comments and roll my eyes at you at lot, it's only because I love you.  I guess we would make good sisters.  Nothing really compares to laying around on your kitchen floor, eating all the things, and pondering the wonders of life considered indecent to talk about by most organisms.  I think somewhere along the way, after all of the hours upon hours used up, gas money spent, five facebook albums full of pictures, coordinating outfits, family mart consumed, cookie dough microwaved, laws broken, sweaters exchanged, secrets spilled, collaborative prayers whispered, tears fallen, embraces felt, and I love yous said... there became a part of us that will forever remain connected, even if we do fall out of touch.

All I know is I really hope our kids get to have as much fun together as we do :}

Michicant

Somebody come whisk me away to a cloudy world of forests and fields and freedom

Twilight Realizations

Darkness.  The world has been immersed in a blanket of shadow, as it is every night.  You know how the old saying goes... "not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."  While she isn't stirring, she is still wide awake, thoughts stabbing and cutting at her brain like a knife.  She shuts her eyes tightly as the wind is literally knocked out of her by realizations which hold no physical power, though they have still managed to batter her body into a helpless heap, like skinny jeans without a nice pair of legs to cling lovingly to.

She is tired.  Every ounce of her patience has been squeezed mercilessly out of her by screaming mouths, meaningless promises, hands like shackles, and challenging glares.  In her mind her very own tongue has become a viper, lashing out with a seething bite, spitting out venom of honesty with no consideration of feelings or punishments.  Really she's not capable of such things.  It's more like a hamster... always covered in fluff to make every blow soft and comfortable, though it will occasionally nip.  But she doesn't know if she will be able to hold up much longer.  Those traditional healing methods she learned from Grandma are doing more harm than good though mentally they are of some aid, and she's really just tired of being completely and totally helpless.

Tonight her painfully slow, unobservant cranium has managed to completely unfold a mystery in her life.  She lets out a pathetic sound, indistinguishable between a sob and a desperate gasp for air.  Now that she knows... she almost wishes she could go back.  This information might be too much for her.  What is one supposed to do after their most terrifying suspicion is confirmed?  How does one react upon finding out that the sculptor, after putting all of their meager salary into supplies for their upcoming work, every bit of skill and effort they can muster, every moment of their free time... just doesn't like what they made.  She can understand how one would want to just take up that disappointment into their clenching fingers, and hurl it at what they can only imagine to be their own shortcomings, and the unfairness that is this life.

Crash!  She buries her face more forcefully into her suffocating pillow, the sound and energy of the shattering pot running up her spine like a chill.  She knows she is the pot. 

She is disappointment.

She is an expert at making up metaphors, as well, and continues to do so.  For the first time in her life, the creativity and pleasure of playing with words doesn't help.  Nothing does.  Another first... there is nothing to be done.  Nobody is doing anything wrong.  She and her are just puzzle pieces, both with little nubs which stick out to cling to another, so that no matter what they do, they will never fit together.

The only thing to do is deal with it.

Her distraught gasps for air turn into peaceful breaths, and soon she drifts into a world of dreams, where none of this matters.  If she weren't too busy fighting off murderers with her superhero for a brother, getting stuck inside of giant pears with characters from TV shows from her childhood, and taking huge last minute tests in her underwear, she'd realize that it is a really sad thing that she would rather just never wake up from said dreams.

... and at once she knew she was not magnificent.

Heavy in Your Arms

It isn't worth the wait, all this killing time.

Broken.

I bet you didn't know that I am completely, totally, undoubtedly shattered on the inside.

No.

I've been told that I'm too... malleable.  That I need to learn to say no.  That I need to just say what I feel, because it really will matter to those who I should be caring about.
Today I tried it out....

Twice.

Neither time did it  work.  I said what I was feeling.  I was firm about it. 
You brushed it off and ignored me and did what you wanted, despite my attempt at an interjection.  It didn't matter to you that today just wasn't a day to mess around with me.  You didn't care that every little thing was pushing me closer to the edge.  I fell off the edge, actually.  But you wouldn't stop long enough to hear me, even if I did try to tell you that.  All it got me was a lot of awkward silence and a further tarnished reputation.

Well.  What lesson did we learn today, kids?

Keep everything inside of you.  Other people don't care how important the part of yourself you're trying to give to them is.  They'll give you advice because it sounds like a smart thing to say... but then when it's time to try and take it, not even they will support you.

I am tiny.  The speck on a speck on a speck in the grand scheme of things.

And, you know what?  Today I'm really feeling it.

For You

If you love me with all of your heart I'll make you a star in my universe

Dear Boy Across the Ocean

 

Tonight I asked what your plans for adult life were.

I expected you to say that you were going to try and get a basketball scholarship and then go on your mission and then come back to college so you could meet hot college chicks.  That's usually the answer I get.

... But you're just full of surprises.

You told me that you plan on living inside a cardboard box on the streets of North Korea, and that you'd love it if I'd join you.

Well.  I thought it over a bit, and you promised we could wear plaid shirts every other day, so.... 

North Korea,

Canada,

Uganda,

even to hell and back!

I'll come along for any adventure you ask me to.

Temptation to just swim to you right now = extreme.

And She Was Called Vulnerable

Everybody has a personal demon... sometimes even several.  She learned that from her school's drama team performance.  What it didn't teach her, was that her demons had been studying her from the moment she came into existence.  They know every weak link, and they have the exact right tools to get the job of breaking her into bits done right.  She never took the time to ponder over how subtly such demons could tip-toe their way into her being. 

One moment she's sitting there looking over the random musings and updates of those close to her, Laughing Out Loud (though only in her head, as most LOLs are) as she pondered over the reason as to why people feel inclined to tag her in pictures of their cute yet randomly unrelated babies.

The next she's about really to give in, a giant tidal wave of tiny waists, even tinier shorts, thighs that don't touch, and bones that stick out in all places possible rushing over her, obliterating all traces of a now extinct concept, called "confidence." 
Why does she subject herself to such torture? 
I can tell you she doesn't enjoy it. 

Her frail body shrivels up into nothing more than a pile of quivering bones, no music telling her story more accurately than the slowly dying sound of her sobs.  She knows that she will never be the girl on the computer screen.  She knows that her flesh must be just madly in love with her bones, because it has managed to wrap itself around those suckers in an embrace so tight that they'll probably never see the light of day again.  That's just how her body works.

But one thing that gets to her is the girl with the broken spirit.  See, that girl will never realize what she has.  That girl has been beaten and thrown down and damaged in ways that no one could understand.  Even though she's always managed to pick herself up, she still goes throughout life with a slight metaphorical limp.  That girl has it much worse than the Vulnerable girl.    The one called Vulnerable couldn't help but hate her.  She hated her because she had so much more and she just couldn't see it.  She hated her because she was good at sweeping her broken pieces under the rug so that no one could ever suspect her.

Funny thing is... she would shatter herself if it mean the one with the broken spirit got to be completely mended. 

The Longest Time

Once I thought my innocence was gone, 

now I know that happiness goes on.

I Am Transported.

 

I sit here alone, immersed in nothing but my own thoughts.  Whenever this happens, I can't help but want things.  Want a better house.  Want to be smaller.  Want more time.  Want less time.  Want more friends.  Want the friends I have to want me.  Want to go back.

I can see it just barely... the very edges of my memory more like clouds than vision.  I am happy.  The only thing that matters to me is how high I can jump on the trampoline compared to my peers and counting down the days until Christmas.  I was blissfully unaware of all the things in my life which I'd want to delete.  Cut, bend, twist... that's fine.  It's never going to work, anyways.

I want to go back to the days of hyper-activity.  Where I annoyed the marshmallows out of all who knew the real me, and yet I remained completely and totally invisible to every other soul of the world.  The beauty of it was... I didn't care.  I pranced around throughout my business and my business alone, unaware that there was anything better out there for me.  There was only one who cared.  One who I could laugh with and talk and eat handful upon handful of candy.

But I left her.

I left her for a new world.  This world was much darker... it felt totally isolated, yet there were oceans of people all around.  One held a flashlight.  It was up to her where she pointed it to go, and I followed by her side like my life depended on it.  Part of me thinks that it did.  Or, rather, my death depended on it.  And there is no life without death.  It was a world of independence and anger and spite... and so much excitement that I just couldn't bring myself to leave.  After many times of taking her flashlight and playing with it, clicking the button over and over, shining it in others' eyes, she took me on a long scavenger hunt to find my own.  Luckily.... I did.  Now it's just a matter of figuring out the right places to point it.

Since then, I have managed to tangle myself up in a rainforest.  It's full of vibrant, interesting creatures.  But all of them seem to be fully consumed in their own affairs. Perhaps I look funny to them, because there are so many which just spend their time watching me.  I can tell they're waiting for the day that I reach out my hand to try and touch them.  Maybe it'll happen.  For now, I'm just trying to figure out why I can't manage to get out and move on to the next place in my travels.  I can't tell if the stems winding themselves around my ankles are flowers or thorns.  All I know is, the girl with the flashlight is scampering on without me, and even if I do get it together, I'm probably going to end up having to rely on my own light.

Favorite Quotes of the Day

"Don't worry.  We're going to get married, so then we'll have a different first dance." (Well.  This was last week.  I just like repeating it.)

"I can't feel AN INVISIBLE BLANKET."

"Let's do this the old fashioned way and just get her pregnant."

"Don't say anything.  I'm always right."
"I already know that.  It'll come in handy for when I'm your husband, huh?"

"I DON'T HAVE A LITHP!!!"

"Ah ah ah, you better put the giraffe down."

"I think the fact that you had severe loss of control of your face is what contributed mainly to my love for you today."

"OH MY GOSH DO YOU JUST HAVE NO FAT ON YOUR BODY?"

"It's like when a little puppy gets back from the vet with a cone around its head.... so pathetic but SO ADORABLE!"

"Want to run your brother over?"

Today was good.  Very good.  It definitely wasn't what I expected, and it was super long... but I was happy.

Dear Brown,

You get looked over a lot, don't you?  Slowly I'm starting to realize that.  Now that I think about it, I'm the only one I've ever heard of who includes you on their list of favorite colors.  Sorry if that stings... honestly, I really don't mean to rub salt in your wounds.  This is a letter of encouragement, not cyber-bulling... I swear.

Let me just start out by saying, thank you so much for being the color of my hair.  I may look at blondes sometimes with the most bitter of all envy, but honestly, you compliment me quite nicely.  I like that you picked a good shade.  Not too light and bland, but not dark enough to be boring.  Also, my eyes.  They are the loveliest of golden browns.  I don't think blue could have ever popped like this shade does when paired with green. 
Personally, I find that you are the perfect match for dirt.  I would be disgusted with living if dirt was... I don't know... blue.  You are so mellow and rich and complimentary. 
Thank you for coloring giraffe spots.  And chocolate.  Wood, the center of sunflowers, hippos, my leather jacket, my future husband and children, capybaras...

Even if other people don't see it, I don't that this world of colors really does rely on you to keep things balanced and pretty.  So just hang in there... someday everyone else will come to their senses.
You have plenty of talents... they're just... special talents.

My eternal affections,

Corenna Jellybeana

I Want...

These Two....

Get married, please.

Then I don't have to worry about either one of you being unhappy.

And it will be much less work tracking you down ;)

Look Away

Can't explain what I'm feeling... But I came this far 

to take your hand, help you understand why I'm always wanting more

I Desire....

a corn field.

So desperately.

Sarah and I have mastered lots of fields, from sugarcane, to sunflowers, to tall grass....

All I want in life is to find a random cornfield and take beautiful pictures in it while frolicking with Sarah.

Or a man.

Depending on when it is that this dream comes true...

Today's Mood

 

Leave me alone to wallow in the unjustness of time...

Little Known Fact #1

My biggest fear is the ocean.  Also, the deep end of the pool (now you know why I refuse to go off the diving board, Alicia).  I can't stand the feeling of being small, and that is exactly how those things make me feel.  So I guess it makes sense that I'm also deathly terrified of whales. 

Babysitting

My weekends have consistently been full to the brim with fun plans for the past few months....This weekend I had nothing.

So I spent a lot of time just sitting there.  I would stare at the computer as I ate some high-fructose corn syrup enriched particle of food, waiting... I don't really know what for.  People to start random chat bubbles asking if I wanted to hang out with them and actually be social with more than one person?  Heh... yeah.  Silly thought, I know.  Needless to say, it didn't happen.
I was frustrated when my waiting was interrupted by a phonecall asking if I could babysit.  Being me, I had to say yes.  It turned out quite fun, actually.  I ran around the house chasing an adorable little boy, eventually managing to lose him, and then popping out with a "BOO!" which would send him screaming and wriggling with excitement as he'd start chasing me instead.  We battled with race cars and giant plastic dinosaurs and bouncy spiders, making them get tired every once in a while and have to take a break so that they could eat tacos.  How I miss those days of simple creativity.  I pushed a crowd of bigger kids super high on a swing attached to their tree, making sure to stand in between their soaring bodies and the trunk, so that there was no chance of them running into it.  Never have I been the "cool kid" who could swing people super duper high... before today, that is.  Slowly but surely the kids started to trickle back into the house, their pulsating and exhausted little bodies collapsing all over the couches and one another.  The little one chose my lap as his resting place, folding in half and sucking on his thumb as Scooby and Shaggy starting battling a lion through the TV.


I need experiences such as this.  They remind me that I want to have a family when I'm older.  They make me want to be worthy just so that I can be a good mom to my future offspring.

Dear Future Daughters,

Sarah Irene.  Audrey May.  Katie Belle.  Tegan Elizabeth.

Whoever you are.

Pretty please... just love yourself.  I can't even convey to you how much more lovely it will make your life.

I can only try to love you enough for the both of us.

Worried Shoes

Tightrope

I can't tell if I'm more afraid of this balancing string, or of simply staying the same.

I do what I want.

... unless I could get grounded for it.
And not if a boy is watching.
Never on school campus.
Usually not if it could end up injuring me.
Of course, I stop as soon as I find out someone doesn't like it.
Not if it's too mainstream.
Never in front of those kids back from middle school!

Okay, so after all that, maybe I don't do very much at all of what I want...
That's okay.  I don't think the world could handle much more Coree than it already gets.

It's Called Sacrifice for a Reason.

I am now starting to realize this. I made a fateful decision a long time ago that I was going to protect you. Sort of ironic, considering it should be your job to protect me... At the time it seemed like the only decision to make. There was no way I was going to let anything hurt you, despite all the times you've hurt me even since then, no matter who else it hurt in the process. The few people I've confided in over this say it was stupid and I made the wrong choice when I had the chance to change things for the better... but they just don't understand.
They haven't been through this much with you.
They haven't had to spend hours ruling it out in their mind how the stuff that you do just means you love them.
They haven't seen the way you sacrifice for others.

They haven't been there for everything.

Why should anyone expect them to understand for a moment the pain, loyalty, and panic that overwhelmed every little bit of my existence in making that decision.

I've spent all this time being miserable because I thought your decisions were unfair.  I've been so angry and jealous and bitter and upset and lonely and spiteful and disrespectful and numb and mean and just... unhappy.  It got to the point where I almost told you about said decision in my frustration.  I told you enough to get you mad, but not the part that mattered.

But I've had a realization.  That decision was making a sacrifice for you, and I knew it.  Making a sacrifice implies that one is somehow giving something up for something else.  Of course I'd be inconvenienced somehow by this.

You know, that was my decision.  In that moment, I figured that you were more important than anything I could gain.  I'd forgotten that.
Yes, you're going to be mad at me for this... probably forever, unless we do actually come clean and work things out at some point.
But I protected you.  And that's what I was setting out to do so long ago.

I got what I wanted.

Time to try and decide if the miseries this is causing me are worth it.

Betcha Didn't Know...

I secretly find the 80's fascinating.  I wish my life were exactly like this.

Priorities.

You know, I just wrote out a giant big long blog post full of observations of my mental patterns and emotions and causes and effects.  In it I poured my doubts and worries and even a few confessions.  I went back and applied a constant metaphor, and even put some fun sentences in there which painted marvelous pictures of hatred, insecurity, and hopelessness.

But then I got back to working on a little project for somebody I love's graduation...

And I remembered that no matter what, I've got people who love me.  And even if that net of safety is going to unravel, people love people for a reason... it means there's something in me.  Something good.  Something that I can hopefully tap into and use for my own good, rather than luring people in once they're all gone for good.

Sounds sorta sad, I suppose, now that I've written it out... but it's actually a great hope to me.

All of this sadness is going to seem so pointless one day.  But I will always cherish these blessed people whom God so graciously decided to place in my path.

Breathe Me

Help, I have done it again...
I have been here many times before.

A Bit of a Confession...

Yesterday...

I needed you to happen so desperately.  I am so lucky to have the kind of friend willing to just drop all of our adventurous, high-energy plans for the weekend because I wasn't feeling up to them.  Instead we just laid around eating breakfast burritos, sipping on sweet apple juice, watching movies, and we enjoyed being there with each other.  That's really all it takes. 

So thank you, yesterday.  Thank you for trying to restore my emotional stability.

This Playground Called Life

Just let me know that growing up goes slow...

Cosmic Love

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight, in the shadow of your heart

Poop of the Earth.

That's what today was.  Apparently that's one of Abby's favorite expressions of mine, and I want at least somebody to be smiling today.

I sorta want this to be one of those blog posts where I say exactly what happened, but I am so completely and utterly mortified that I think actually putting it into virtual print would send me back into hysterics.  So I'll gladly curl up under my thinning blanket of vagueness.

I just want to be fantastic.  I want to be talented and beautiful and spunky and awesome like the sea of people I surround myself with everyday.  For a little while, I thought it was starting to happen.  But after today.... I realized that I'm only graced with their presence because it's convenient.  Letting me feel included and like I belong doesn't take any effort from anybody else... it's easier than telling me the truth.  It's easier than breaking it to me that I'm really not as good as the rest of them, but I'm fairly entertaining, so I remain.

Why can't I just impress somebody?  Why can't I be socially suave?  Why can't I perform?  Why can't I be funny?  Why can't I just be fantastic at something other than this crappy blog which holds absolutely no value in anything? 

Oh well.  I'm still going to wake up in the morning.  I'll continue to live life.  The rawness of my emotions will fade, so that even when I desperately want to cry and show people that no, I am NOT fine at all, I won't be able to muster up the courage to just let things flow.  I will continue being that girl great for a laugh every now and then, but who's usually just obnoxious and overpowering.  I will still be seen by a boy, still be there for him, but only when he's in the mood for me rather than one of his other more highly favored women. 

Then, just maybe, someday I'll actually be fantastic at something.

Although, I've found that no matter how unfantastic I get, no matter how dramatic or miserable or crazy or annoying, there's one girl who's always there.  She sympathizes with me in everything.  One just might go as far as to call us.... twins.  And yes, those awkward encounters with her dog, laying on her bed and releasing the stormy ocean which is my emotions through the form of careful whispers, enjoying microwaved cookie dough while trying not to sob out of relief, talking excitedly about the past and best friends and potential best friends and awkward skype phonecalls... it helped.  So much.  

I bet you she thinks I'm fantastic.

I've Almost Got What I Wanted....

But now I realize, I was silly to want it in the first place.

Those Moments...

Those embarrassing moments you can only pray no one will ever mention again...

My life is full of them.

Dear "The Bad Nights,"

I don't think I could even put into words how you have twisted and contorted my life over the past couple of years.  You are the one thing in this life of mine which is anything but fantastic.  Somehow, you manage to suck the joy out of everything else and become the center of attention, your unfair cruelty just too much to look over for a dramatic child such as I.

This has been going on for a long time and I imagine it will continue for at least a few more years.  I'm pretty sure that I am going to continue to struggle with you.  But there must be some good coming from you.  I believe God has a plan, and so this must have some benefit... if not to me, perhaps to someone else?

Perhaps because we were forced into so many meetings, I will be able to handle criticism better in the future?
Maybe I will be extremely considerate and patient with those little souls I am going to be entrusted with one day?
Or....

Well, one big point of this big "plan" previously mentioned is that we don't know it or understand it.  But I know everything has a reason.... everything. 

I'm going to get through this.  

I Went in a Corn Field Today

That's a metaphor... in case you didn't know.

Basically saying that today the simple things were an adventure,

throwing a bit of wonder and interest into my life.

At times I felt like I was lost and would never be able to get out...

but then, at other moments, I hoped that nothing and no one would ever try to take me away from the visually pleasing rows upon rows of leaning, feathery stalks.

In the end, I realized that I have many Akbars, a couple of which stood out to me today.

I also realized that despite that they will eventually be turned into delicious, buttery, wannabe vegetable side-dishes, 

they are the only Akbars for me and the cornfield would be quite suckish without them.

Dear Weekend,

You were perfect...  absolute perfection.  I adored every moment we spent together.  From attaining a new, adorable (and quite Abby-like) wardrobe, to following a random stranger all the way to ETWS.... in Naha, to attending a babyshower and getting to spend time with those ladies who I want to badly to be like in the future, to hanging out with that kid down the street who I find to be fantastically challenging, to watching adorable little children and a couple of friends perform in Alice in Wonderland, to a sleepover, flittery, exciting, sleep deprived girl-talk until the wee hours of the morning, a giant breakfast, a spiritually uplifting Sunday, baking cookies, a moment of wonderful, vain, exciting, conceited, self-esteem boosting realization, voice lessons from some of my favorite people, to a wonderfully satisfying nap...

You're the only thing that gets me through long weeks such as this last one.
The knowledge that you, my most adored weekend, will always be filled with complete bliss.

A Bit of Hope

I doubt you realize how elated I was yesterday when you just assumed we'd still be seeing each other every day when you're old.

My Own

Oh hey look.... apparently I wrote a song that I didn't know about!

Curse you, Tumblr

I already hated you because I wanted one so badly, but was stuck with a blogger.  Luckily, I managed to make the best of this blog and I got many of my friends hooked on blogger.  My lackage of tumblr was okay because I still had my buddies with me, which is really what matters in social networking...

Unfortunately, they've discovered tumblr, too.  And their parents don't mind it.  So I am left here in this wasteland of blogger..... alone, to wonder if anybody even reads this thing anymore, since they don't get on to write their own blogs.

Forever alone.

Even on the internet ;-;

Dear Partner-in-Crime,

Thank you so much.  I woke up this morning crying, just because in my heart I knew today was going to be the poop of the earth.  Purely by the grace of God, school actually turned out okay.  Still, things from last night were lingering in my head and in my heart and they just wouldn't leave.  Happiness fleeted after a few moments, just because those harsh words kept ringing through my head over and over again.... freak....
I don't think you even knew anything was wrong.

But you know, there are few people like you who manage to just light me up instantly.  All you did was talk to me at lunch.  All you did was sit next to me.  I've been counting--this is the 7th time in a row.  There are plenty of other beautiful and funny girls at our table you could sit next to, and yet you don't.  I'm not used to being somebody's first choice.  I'm starting not to mind being "mainstream" and riding the bus rather than riding with the bestie, just because I know day after day you're the one who plops down next to me on that bench, prepared with all sorts of stories and such for the ride home.  I don't think anyone could understand how fond I've grown of watching your expressions of excitement as you relate the happenings of the day to me... you get so in to what you're saying!

I love how we finally ended up playing that old Nintendo 64 game we've been saying we would together.  I felt pretty cool, getting to show off my video gaming "skills".... heh for a girl, anyways.  Hot, chewy pretzels, talking with your saint of a mother, an intense rubber-band war with the rest of your family, hiding behind you as you took the blows for me...

I know you're leaving soon.  I know there are a lot of things that should deter me and convince me to spend time with someone else.  But you know, I don't mind.  Right now I think you're the only one who can help like you do.  Maybe I'm just setting myself up for future pain, but kiddo, you're the best distraction in the world.  I think that's what I need right now.

Telling you how I feel?
Best decision of my life.