My family's Christmas tree!
[Well, the bottom.]
:)

I was almost positive that today was going to be the day where everything would come together, and all of the worries and fears I had would fall away to make room for better, easier things; nay, my world came crashing down on me in more ways than I had ever imagined. At least there is no big test tomorrow.

I'm reliving the same problems I had two years ago, so much the same that it's uncanny. Is today an episode on a sitcom broadcasting on the other side of the world? Tell me world, how does this episode end? History always repeats itself- we just have live through it or study it to know what to do when it happens again. I will make sure the ends will not match.

For the first time, I cried reading a book, mostly because I expected it to read like the 5th-grade reading level it seemed, like the author's other novels, but it was in fact at the high-school level. Smiles to Go, by Jerry Spinelli. Also wrote Stargirl. And Maniac McGee. The same author I read from in primary school, I read again as an eleventh grader in high school. It was more heartfelt than any other novel I had ever read. Even though it's heart-wrenching, I whole-heartedly recommend it. Very profound- made me think about things, but things I'm too tired to write out. I'll post an explanation/quote here tomorrow sometime, hopefully.

Visited by Paranoia when She is Exhausted,
Macky
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isinktooeasily

Cheap infactuation is a tarpit [no, that doesn't read armpit, although it stinks like one]. You fall deeper and deeper, and while you risk your life to get free, you fall faster. But I made it out alive of one, as impossible as it seemed (especially when everytime I saw those hopeful [lying] eyes I got lost in, I just fell down deeper). I struggled to the top, and stood up on steady ground, for the first time in what feels like (and what really was) years. And now that I can finally begin to breathe and marvel at my accomplishment, I'm already falling back into another tarpit. A stupid shallow punk tarpit that isn't even worth my time, to tell you the truth. I refuse to get sucked back, though, especially after falling once, and all it did was make me the fool. I learned my lesson the hard way. I will not be made the fool again, nor will I make another innocent soul the fool. It just can't happen- not again...

lollygagging,
Macky.

Anyone who would be so fantastic as to inspire me to do my personal anectdote essay, please feel free to leave a comment below.

I'm currently going through hell, if you're wondering. I have a lot of deadlines- many being Friday. And the ACT (a HUGE test I needed to study for, but didn't have enough time with everything else) Saturday (which I now do not plan to do, and if my mother forces me to, I will fail miserably, so it's a lose-lose situation either way). And my still unbought dress, which has to be bought before this weekend, otherwise I am going to destroy things. I keep praying that we won't have school Friday. Or I will die before then (one can only dream). I also keep on saying/thinking "next week" repeatedly, but this is the first time in a long time where I have KNOWN it will really be better. So, I'm still being positive, in a sort of freaking-out-brain-explosion way.

I have grown to dislike contractions the last couple of days.

Everyone this week has told me that they "hate people (in general, I assume)." Obviously, they've just been around the wrong type of people. I like to pride myself in thinking I'm a good person, a real human being, but lately I've been more like a maniacal schoolwork-monkey machine.

Anyway, sorry for the randomness, just trying to convey some thoughts that maybe will inspire you, somehow. Or me. Or do nothing for you, but I feel LOADS better from writing this- just to get it all out. I hope you all are doing okay.

Safe travels,
Mack :]

Look On the Bright Side of Things. (:



I wish I came up with this... sorry to disappoint you [but also enlighten you through this quote at the same time... whoa- too late for conflicting thoughts].



The Shy Songbird

Once upon a time, there was a lilac-colored bird that couldn't fly. She could walk, or ride a bicycle, but never fly. It was the way she was born, and that was that.

For this reason, she had very few friends, besides her folks. The fish whom she visited when he didn't have to hide from the enforcers, and the balloon she had found at a parade long ago, named Murray, were the only others that truly understood the young, shy, misunderstood bird.

One day, she went out for a serene bicycle ride, and planned on having a splendid little picnic with the fish and Murray. She only brought a jar of jam, but it was that same jam from the blackberry plant she had grown in the backyard that had caused the fish to surface and their friendship to kindle.

Going out onto the path, she ran into no trouble or creatures- only delights. Acres of wildflowers scattered through the path, and from the wooden bridge she could see her own reflection in the water.

Upon crossing the bridge, she sat along the water's edge, waiting for the fish to come. Murray became quickly impatient, having other things to do with his time, so he floated away. But she still waited. After hours, it became dark, and she was still waiting. Nothing irregular stirred in the water, except for the momentary fish passing through.

So upset with her friend's absence, she began to brush herself off from the dirt on her feet after hours of sitting on the cold rocky ground. Out of nowhere, a gust of wind picked her up off of her feet and flung her over the water. Afraid, she spread out her wings, and, for the first time, began to fly. She soon met some new friends, and flew where they did. The fish had become a speck in her mind, as sadness floats away on the wings of time. She was now happy.

[I don't really know why I wrote that, so don't ask me where it came from. It was all just supposed to be lovely and sweet, even though it's kind of sucky. But it's meant to be sweet, kind of like a bedtime story, at least to me. I also used to have "bird-hair" as a kid, so that's where the bird comes from [and they can fly, so that kinda makes more sense instead of, say, a deer flying, although I love fawns, too]. Don't judge me [harshly]- I'm stressed, and kind of needed this...]

Goodnight,
Mack :]

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