They're all liars

I am having a fantabulous brain fart moment, but my main brain fart victim has saved himself and gone off to bed. What ever shall I do? Journal!

This morning I was reading mwY lyrics to my dad in the car and starting crying. And then I collected myself and walked into that evil place I call school and went about my day feeling nothing.

At lunch Aly had a handful of green and purple and one red Spree. She told me I could have one, just not hte red one. So I took the red one. She yelled, "Ah!" or something that closely translates to that. And then I popped it in my mouth and she condemned me to Spree hell. Then she put the handful in her motuh and proceded to choke on them. It seemed she was bound for Spree hell a lot sooner than I.

I noticed the other day when my dad cooks, he shuffles about in the kitchen saying "shoot" or "shit" under his breath at everything that he does. I can't really tell which word it is because it mostly just sounds like "shhh" but anyways, all that shhing must wear an old man out.

I was going to share lunchroom excerpts from my writing there, but I've discovered the deepest I get is(today's writing) " They're peeling tangerines and eating white chocolate. And I'm going insane" or the Spree incident, along with a bunch of mwY lyrics. And! something sort of deep that I missinterpreted from someone was " I want to live first!", although I think he said "I want to peel first. Juicy juicy". But nevermind that. Living first is better than peeling first with some juicies don't you think? Yes you do.

I did however, make a discovery during this lunch period. I discovered from my last entry here about feeling so sad, is because "I think the reason this bothers me so much is because I don't want toturn into Tom. I don't want an emptiness I can't define and no purpose but to exist and make up my own purpose as to why I'm drifting around all while bearing a sadness I can't take, if I'm even aware of it."
Also, this has a bit of the last quote I said, but more!
"And you are jsut listening to the confused ramblings of a girl you don't even know. I'm not sure what's so different. We aren't so new. We're all tired under this skin that holds us together. Sometimes from going everywhere at once and sometimes just oozing out like a puddle on the floor. We're all aimlessly drifting around with this sadness we can't quite define, and if we can, then it sometimes hurts even more, but also we know our other pursuits that leave us empty, well they just add to the whole big picture of this fogginess and confusion. And now I have to quote mwY as usual:
'A wick to fit the wax, wood to fit the wire you strike the match - why not be utterly changed to fire? To sacrifice the shadow and the mist of a brief life you never much liked - if you'd care to come along we're gonna curb all our never-ending, clever complaining (as who's ever heard of a singer criticized by his song?) We hunger, but through all that we eat brings us little relied we don’t know quite what else to do We have all our beliefs, but we don’t want our beliefs God of peace, We want you'
I'm sorry if you don't care about God. He cares about you. And I can't say anything without it coming down to Him. Because honestly that's the only way we're ever going to feel new again."

I couldn't possibly tie this all together and make it sound coherant and well thought out at this time of night. That would be because it was well felt out anyways. At least I think. I'm never sure of myself. Back to focusing on this sadness again. I think I might have been able to almost put it in words. What an accomplishment. I've summarized my madness. But I must note this is only sort of.
"This is one reason I'm so sad. Everything I do is so wrong and I'm going blind, starting to get used to doing this crap and not thinking anything of it. But I am responsible and I can't shake that. I know I am harsh on myself but it's really hard to explain to you the various reasons why without sounding like a Nazi to myself. No one gets me anyways. I am mad. But I'll settle for this madness anyday just to get away from all the 'sanity'."
"Damn, if we could only learn to appreciate Him. I never do. Not enough. I never feel like anything in my heart is good enough to offer him. And I know that's wrong because Jesus died for us so that we would be made pure. I don't have to punish myself anymore. But I don't stop until I feel a certain way. Until I know I have true conviction because I just feel like I'm turning into everyone else."

And I feel like apologizing for myself again. Just know, I don't mean it. Sorry.

But! I have good news. My friend Chris talked to me again awhile forever. And he's really changing for the better. I've been praying for this for awhile, until I gave up. But God never does apparently.
Also I met a kid named Dorian who is unusually nice, yet casual and non threatening(although the way I act I seem to be threatened)tends to genuinely care. How rare. I've been finding myself being called all sorts of names like, "Hey Emily baby", "darling", "sweetie","honey", and just plain "Em". It's quite nice having someone interested in you and what you have to say. I like fascinating people. I try, I try. Although it would be nice to not have to do that.
And Tom...Tom, Tom, Tom...
God, I love him. If for nothing more than being that silly Tom person over there yonder in that Yurp place, he's made an impression on my life. The addiction that sustains me. The person I'd lay my life down for to trample on, just to make him happy. But he tramples so delicately, so gentleman-like and polite! Damnit! If he realizes what he means to me, he certainly doesn't show it, probably so he won't have to hurt my feelings to tell me he feels nothing so strongly for me. I don't care. I just want him to be happy. And I just want the Lord to be there with him to embrace him on his collaspsing bike with no chain(mwY, sorry, had to do it) and pick him up, wipe the dust off his feet and carry him through. And I devised a safe way to pull him through the computer screen and sit him down by my side. I'll sew him to my side when he decides to kidnap me and take me hostage in England, that way we can stay close. I'm getting so sick of closeness through a box...I might do something compulsive if I only had the money to do that.
And all through this constant fussing and sorrow over Tom and his brokeness, there's Edric always there to tell me how beautiful and loved I am and asking me how to make a paper bracelet so he can send one to me for a surprise Christmas gift...I love him too. We people, we're the sort that stick together. We can make bracelets that last.

This is the end. But not really.