I miss him. Good lord I miss him. I called him at around 12:30 today, waking him up. I asked him if he wanted to ski, he said he was busy. i stayed on the phone for maybe 5 minutes longer. At least 3 of those minutes was spent in silence. We're going to get together to try to practice on Friday or Monday. I think I might ask him about why things are so awkward now. I don't understand how it happened. I just don't understand.

My heart has been very heavy lately.

http://www.myspace.com/sarahrog



go there. it is my myspace music, it has two of my original songs on it, you can download them and everything. friend me, message me, whatever. and spread the word man. tell everyone.

Things are looking up?


I met her there and bought her a christmas present. We walked and talked like we hadn't in ages. It was nice. Later we went back to her house, and my parents picked me up from there. Our parents got to talking. My mom delved into my unhappiness at school, how i needed to switch schools. Her parents told my mom all about her school, how it was urban and art-focused, small and tough, independant and cool. And now we are going to look at it, I am most likely going to switch over to it next school year, and I will get to study film and photography. French will have to be studied outside of school, and no matter how busy it gets I will not stop. French is a dream and a lifeline for me. But imagine, me waking up, wanting to go to school in the morning. Waking up and taking the bus downtown and making films. Being with people I enjoy, who enjoy me. Not coming home feeling like shit almost everyday...I am quivering with excitement and anticipation.



I officially broke up with the french boy this morning, as well. It went surprisingly well.



I feel so good. Like a million pounds are lifted off of my back, or are at least lifting, and will be gone soon.

Now watch it fall apart like it did with Harry.

My horoscope tells me i'm going to be getting somewhere new. But it lies. All my days are the same. I'm always alone; Clare's in the hospital for her anorexia, Harry doesn't care that much, I'm not friends with many people at my school.

Lunches and breaks are spent wandering by myself with my CD player in hand, looking pissed, sad, or bored. I wish I could find someone that wasn't fucked up. I need a girl, or an ugly boy. Someone i won't fall for.

The fact is, I think I deserve it. One can't be alone for too long, you know. God knows that. Why can't He help me find someone? Someone who isn't fucked up, someone I won't fall for, someone, somewhere, preferably at school.


I need a friend.

I think I'm starting to like him.

Not Mr. President.

A "new" boy...

Mr. Spain is his name.

I like burying myself in blankets. Naked under layer and layers of blankets. I lie there and pretend that someone has their arms wrapped around me, has big hands on my ribs. Strong, gentle hands. The fact is, I don't give a damn about sex. i just want to feel safe. A boy with me under all those blankets. He'd smell like home. Home is his smell all around me and his hands on my ribs, buried with me under blankets. We'd listen to the bed creek when one of us shifted a little, hear the ceiling settle. The heater roaring in the basement. Every night I'd have my boy, buried with me under blankets. We'd tell each other stories off of the top of our heads, and repeat our favorite words:
"spatula!"
"acne!"
"symphony!"
"bubble!"
And while we're buried under blankets, the light would creep through the shades. We'd be forced to rise and make due with the day, until we were buried together under blankets again.

my new t-shirt i made. it says: i love swedish pop music, in swedish! 

so i asked the magic 8 ball for some council.

"Does Mr. President think I'm fucking crazy?"
yes, it replied.

"Does Mr. President think I'm completely and utterly fascinating?"
yes, it replied.

"Does Mr. President think I'm hot?"
yes, it replied.

.....................................................................................................................................

"Does Mr. President have a crush, or at least an infatuation, with me?"
yes, it replied.




like i said before, though, the magic 8 ball has a tendency to fuck up.

i've know andrew lawson since i was in first or second grade. and i never knew he was so mean until now, seven years later, when i have to sit next to him in biology.

and it's not like he's being really mean or anything right to my face. he's not a fiery mean. he's a passive-agressive, ice-cold kind of mean. the worst kind of mean.

he never hands me anything when i ask for it (such as scissors or maybe a piece of paper), he slams it near a space beside me, or shoves it towards me. he gives me those looks that say "you are worthless and crazy and stupid," and today he told me i needed to get a life. that boy doesn't know anything about me. i am not stupid, i am not worthless, and i am only a little bit crazy. he is an emotionless robot. he is the shitface here. not me.

and i do have a life. i have my music. i do more than play it, i write it and live it and breathe it. i don't just play a stupid saxaphone in the school band, with songs i didn't even write, i don't care if you're good at it.

if this keeps up, i'm going to give him a piece of my mind. because i will NOT put up with this for another month.

after so many times making eye contact when we walked in opposite directions down the hall, you turned around, bumped into me, and amdist your mumble of "sorry..." your finger tips accidentally brushed across my chest.

just kill me now, Mr. President.

today was...interesting.
on the bus ride home i didn't feel to great, just like yesterday. only this time i wanted to cry. and then the minute i get into my room, begin putting my stuff away, i just start crying and crying. so i change my clothes and crawl into bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin, shutting the shades so that it's really dark, and while my tears soak little sections of my pillow i ask myself what i did wrong, and all that stuff. then i take a three hour nap.
i wake up at around 6:30, walk to the kitchen and eat a bowl of cheerios. when my mom gets home she begins to ask me if anything's wrong. of course i insist that nothing's wrong, i'm just fine, i was just tired. but the dam has got to really break sometime. my mom goes downstairs to check up on my grades. for some reason my LA grade has plummeted from a mid A to a low B. my math grade's an N, because there's only one assignment in the book, a test which i failed, like all tests. i've got two other C's, which i've been working my fucking ass off to raise, but that's not working. so my mom starts grilling me on that.
and then i freak. i start screaming about how i don't know anything, i don't know why everything's wrong, i don't know i don't know i don't know! and then i delve into everything else that's wrong, and this crying and my parents being stupid continues for at least an hour. we talked about how my mom knew i havn't been happy since school had started, that i should've goen to ballard where they had the film program i would've loved, where there were people i knew and liked. and yes, those are good things, but she deosn't seem to understand that there are so many people there i don't like and have been trying to get rid of since elementary school. there are people who've hurt me that i never want to see again. it would not be a healthy place for me. but then, it doesn't seem that anywhere is a healthy place for me.

then me and my mom put up christmas decorations. i am seriously beginning to wonder why things are so fucked up right now.

i want to know what happened. he used to talk to me, and seem interested in talking to me. but now when we talk, it is quick and blank, and goes nowhere, and then he turns to the girl that i know he wants. i don't think i like him anymore, but i miss him. he was fun and a friend, even if it was for a short time, and i don't like growing apart from people, i don't like leaving them behind.
today it snowed and although i was hanging out with people maybe two-thirds of the time, it wasn't all to great. after school there were all the people who were friends, throwing snowballs at each other and laughing and smiling and they wern't alone. and then there was me, shuffling my feet through the snow, head down, alone and lonely, wishing you were there, wishing someone i cared about was there, so that i wouldn't feel so shitty.
i wish i could've stayed in france. i would've learned the language and become fluent, and i could've been friends with people. although many of them didn't seem very interesting. but i wish i was someplace else. i wish i was somewhere where i couldn't get attached. i hate myself for being so, i don't know, attached easily.
i wish i wasn't so fussy about who i met. i could fit in just fine with the big, loud, groups of people. but i don't want to, because they're big and loud and wouldn't care anyway. they like shitty music and read shitty magazines and don't talk about anything interesting. and i'm not into that. i wish that there were more people i could relate to.
i know i sound like every other stupid teenager in the world, but i think that even non-teenagers can be like this. even when i was little i felt isolated. i don't know why. back then i was really genaric, i liked shitty music and read shitty magazines and didn't talk about anything interesting. and i know that when i get older i'll feel isolated, because i'm stupid and fussy.

maybe one day i'll meet someone, and we could be friends. it goes back to that entry in april or so, when i talked about waking up, and both of us were lonely, but one day we would meet and it would be perfect. we would see each other and say "there's my missing piece. we will be deeper than love, deeper than friendship. we will be trust."
and then we would fall into each others hearts.