I'll wear your skin as a suit, your friends will like you more than they used to

Yes, this is another rant. I apparently get irritated a lot more than I imagined, and that's freaking huge since I'm well aware of how I can't go a single day without getting pissed at some point, regardless of whether it's because of something huge or something as insignificant as an annoying classmate.

So in honor of my annoyance, I decided to write down exactly what things piss me off and what kind of thoughts I have when these things happen. Who knows? Maybe it'll help me vent all this pent up anger.

Note: I am not calling anyone out on their flaws by making this blog. I'm just stating what ticks me off. Also, this list of irks is in no particular order.


1) When I tell someone I'm busy, yet they continue talking to me anyway. Seriously, what the fuck? How inconsiderate can you get? Now most of the time when I'm busy, I TRY to multitask so I can help others out at the same time, but when I'm doing something important and someone tries to tell me about stupid, insignificant shit that I really don't need to know about right away, THAT is annoying.

2) Annoying classmates. Sit down and shut the hell up. Simple as that.

3) When my friends ditch me to hang out with their boyfriend/girlfriend. People, don't give your life up for a loved one. No matter if you think they're "the one", if it doesn't last and you've already pushed all your friends away because you wanted to hang out with your luffie, you're screwed.

4) People who whine about every little thing that goes wrong in their life, especially when they're spoiled.

5) When teachers get mad at me for laughing. I don't cause a lot of trouble in class, why the hell would you worry about me of all people?

6) People who are self-centered, especially when they don't even realize it. People, if you go back and see that a lot of things you say have the words "I" or "me" in it, you're self-centered. When you try to help someone else out with their problems, and then relate it to yourself in someway or completely turn the venting table around so that the other person has to listen to you, you're fucking self-centered. Really, how hard is it to devote your entire attention to someone and just listen to what someone has to say?

7) When people ask to see my phone or iPod, and then get mad when I say no. One: If I say no, chances are I have a damned good reason for it. Two: I'm not obligated to share, stop being a bitch about it.

8) When people say something rude and then say they were just joking. Wtf? Would you like it if I yelled at you for no reason, then said "just kidding"? It's not funny at all. Just stop.

9) When I get asked about my love life, especially when I don't even like the person asking the question. It's none of your business, and gossip is pointless, people.

10) When people talk shit behind other people's backs. How rude is that? If you got something to say, just fucking say it or shrug it off and move on. Rumors are useless and cause more harm then good. Knock it off. We're not in elementary school anymore, kiddies.


And hm, I think that's all I have for now. I may or may not come back and edit this post as more irks come to mind.

I came down here to tell you, it rains in heaven all day long~ ♥

I adore everything about you

Like your smile
Or your wit
Very cute laugh, I can't get enough of it
Every moment with you is worth while

Your charm is impossible to ignore,
obviously. Who wouldn't love you?
Undeniably, you had me at hello.

What did I say? Why do you give a shit?

So yeah, emotions are VERY confusing things.

I used to think that I had my emotions under control, but lately I've felt like I'm losing sight of everything. My mood swings constantly, and when I'm not going from laughing with someone to screaming at them, I'm completely emotionless. Blank. Just going through the motions without feeling anything.

My parents believe that I might be depressed. I'm not too sure if I agree with them or not yet. Apparently I show some of the symptoms but I feel completely fine. However, I can clearly see how I'm beginning to change.

I used to be so much more optimistic, but now I hardly have the enthusiasm to get out of bed in the morning, much less have the energy to keep my friends happy.

Sorry if this post didn't make a damn bit of sense. Honestly, I can't even figure out what's wrong with me but I know something is.

For what it's worth, darling dear ♥

Kay so, I have this new idea for my writing. Instead of writing down a bunch of random ideas and making new stories for each, I'm gonna grab one idea, make a story, and make that my main priority. Any new ideas I get afterwards will be side projects.

Oh, and I'm still gonna work on the stories I've started before deciding to try this out, just not as frequently (not that I rushed off to write them anyway).

Let's hope this works! :)

Love,

Mariah ♥

Somewhere deep inside of these bones, an emptiness began to grow. . .

[[ Thank you Tim for suggesting the idea of using songs for blog titles, and thank you Nightmare Revisited for renewing my love of The Nightmare Before Christmas. ]]

My happiness, my peace of mind, my appreciation of life -- it's amazing how one Tuesday night managed to take that all away from me. I feel empty inside now; sickeningly hollow.

All I've done in life was ignore my issues and try to be optimisitic about everything. That's basically all I'm good for -- limitless optimism. Yet lately, I can't even do that right. I can flash a few half-hearted smiles, fake a laugh now a then, but I'm becoming so terrible at that all I've done was remain silent and nod occasionally to pretend that I'm paying attention to what's going on.

As the days drift by (and as I sustain more and more injuries as a result of lack of sleep and absent-mindedness), all I've found myself wanting to do was just sit in a dark corner and wait until I eventually wither away. I still try to cheer my friends up when they're gloomy, but it's so much harder when I can't even make myself happy anymore. But I keep trying regardless, because if I can't keep my peace of mind or my once-limitless amount of happiness, then I at least want to keep the image of my friends' smiles embedded in my mind. The constantly increasing amount physical injuries and the worsening of my previous ones don't help my mood any either. (Seriously, one day I know I'm gonna get hurt BADLY, but what scares me more is how nonchalant I feel when I think about it).

Here I come back to the lack of happiness issue. If I can't even do the one thing I'm good at, then what does that make me?

Useless, worthless. Just a waste of space. What's the point in continuing on with my life if things are going to go on like this? I want more reason to be grateful for being alive right now besides 'it's better than being dead'. I wish I could see things the way I did before, where nothing is truly bad because there's always something far worse that could've happened instead. It feels like everything I knew before was a lie, and now I'm finally seeing how cruel the world is. . .

I'm not sure if this is just the post-rape depression speaking or not (hehe, I wonder how many of you will go "YOU WERE DEPRESSED?! :O"), but all I know is that optimism is a pipe dream. Or at the very least, for people who truly have had an easy life. . .

A rant or a stroke of realization?

I've been VERY stressed out lately, more so than I have been in a very long time. As for my reason why, well it's a long story and it only makes sense if you knew what my past was like.

You see, for the vast majority of my childhood (since the day I was born to when I was in sixth grade), my family and I were homeless. Literally, homeless. Merely going from shelter to shelter while my parents searched desperately for jobs. At one point, sometime when I was around nine or ten years old, my mother's uncle offered to let us stay with him. That was where my life went downhill. Whenever he caught me alone, he molested me. He'd always threaten me and say that if I ever told anyone, he'd grab one of his guns and shoot my parents. And so, I never said a word, but when I went to school, I finally managed to muster up the courage to tell a counselor about it, and she called the police. He then went to prison and I never saw him since then.

Here's where my current problem comes in. A couple of months ago, his friend recently bailed him out. On the eighteenth through the twenty-third, my parents will be going to New Mexico. Much to my dismay, he opted to watch after me and my brother while they were away. (And knowing my brother, he's gonna take advantage of the moment and extend his curfew to midnight for the time being, so it's not really me and my brother, but rather me). My mother accepted her uncle's offer, since she believes that prison changed him and that nothing will happen. Even so, I can't help but be totally terrified. I kept begging my parents to find someone else to watch over me, but everybody is too busy to come down here to Sacramento.

So here I am, praying for time to go slowly so that I don't have to see the [hopefully former] pedophile anytime soon. It's inevitable, at this point I know, but still, I wish I could stall it somehow.

I've been upset about this for a while, a couple of weeks to be precise. With this being said, I came to a bit of realization. Every time I tried to talk someone about this, I somehow ended up comforting them instead. Things have been like that for a while, but this is the first time it's bothered me that badly. I've always been the person who most came to when they needed to talk about something, yet whenever I need to vent, I never seem to get the chance to do so. It feels like no one truly cares about me, but merely see me as a way to vent out their anger and sadness.

Given the circumstances of how I grew up, I was constantly told to "watch out for myself" because "no one else in the world cares about me, except my family and myself". I never believed the statement to be true, because I knew so many people who I thought did care about me, but honestly it's starting to seem right now. Honestly, there are times where I wonder how everyone would react if I suddenly died. My family, obviously, would grieve, but those are the only people who I can honestly say that for. My friends are sweet people, but they're terribly uncaring (whether they actually notice it or not). If I died, they would miss me, but not for very long. In fact, I'd probably be forgotten within a month. They act like they care about me, but I know that my presence is invisible. I'm not really important to them, I'm just there. Like a spot of gray on a colorful canvas, I clearly don't belong, but I'm still there, whether anyone notices or not. . .

Three Words, Eight Letters

I hate you
and your loving gaze,
and your contagious smile,
which kept me smiling for days.
I hate how our story ends,
with you in the San Francisco bay,
and me still here thinking,
"You're not in my arms; you're too far away. . ."

I love you
and how you only had eyes for me.
There could be a million prettier girls around,
and yet I was the only one you'd see.
You kept me happy,
even when all you wanted to do was cry.
But I never let you shed a tear,
because if you ever did, I'd die.

I miss you
everything about you.
Your hugs, your kisses;
ever since you left,
my colorless went from dull gray
to miserable blue.
I love you,
I hate you,
I want you,
I need you,
and most of all,
I miss you. . .