me: hey,  妈妈，every time 恺恺 wears my pants, he should give me two dollars~

kai kai: i’m not wearing your pants right now!

me: i know, i kn–

mom: WAIT WHAT HE WEARS YOUR PANTIES?

me and kai kai: LOLOLOLOLOLOL

-can’t breathe-

~~~

finals are gonna screw me oveeeeeeeeeer.

well, they already are.

at least piano class went well! but just got home.

time to begin studyinggggg wheeeeeeeeeee eight chapters stats…english…i don’t even know -.-

and my brother’s classmates are very perverted.

interesting.

~~~

hm.

If I really do end up with a B+ in chem…or any other class…

or all of them…

what should I do.

lol.

hello tall buildings! konbanwa~

-.-

~~~

so tired-

~~~

my shoulder hurts…well, shoulder blade area. is this not funny? since I have no idea why it would even hurt since I do not strain myself physically at all.

Oh, the wonders of the universe.

~~~

can’t even get past the tutorial in portal. at least, i think it’s a tutorial.

and you wonder why i’m writing another post right after yesterdays riiiiiiight~~ or maybe not LOL

well it’s cuz i’m not studying

-.-

~~~

The abject despair of hopelessness

is like a black, bottomless pit

that you fall into,

slowly, at first, almost gliding gently down on invisible wings;

then gradually picking up speed -

- until the wind is in your face, cruelly slashing at your eyes and noseandmouthandhair and you can’t breathe -

- then you find out you don’t really care either way -

and give up -

~~~

lolol

mom: i thought i stashed all your stuff away, so how’d you make the panda scarf?

me: …

(silence)

ridiculously cold.

gonna die QQ

~~~

yeah, I know it’s not that cold. lulz had to scroll down and review past few posts to see if I wrote about this already…because sometimes I want to write something, but I never do.

~~~

She sits down on one of the many gray metal folding chairs lined up in crooked lines, choosing an empty row devoid of any people. It’s all part of her weekly routine – of waking up and staying in bed, too lazy to get out, then finally going downstairs to eat whatever is available, then slamming the car door closed as she is driven here, there, somewhere – and she’s sick and tired of it all, and would very much like to sleep and even end it all, thank you very much.

She sits there blankly in the dark room, with dimmed lights – very conducive to making eyes slowly shut in slumber – and is vaguely aware of other human activity around her. She sees people come in from the door in the back, she sees people greet each other in their pretentiously friendly tones, she sees people getting up so others can sit – she sees everything as if it were behind a glass wall, invisible, but still firmly separating her from the rest.

Her objectivity bores her, and her eyes glaze over as she wishes she could be home.

She glances over to the left, and notices another person, equally alone in his own secluded row of chairs, a boy who is not her friend, but an acquaintance.

Three years of weekly meetings, potlucks, and lunches – and yet he is still an acquaintance.

Losing interest – or hope – in this line of thought, her mind blanks again as she settles herself in the uncomfortably angular gray metal chair, only to be startled by a movement of blue she catches out of the corner of her left eye.

He walks over to her, laughing slightly as he says, half-jokingly, half-mockingly,

I thought you looked lonely.

She looks up – she is still somewhat surprised – at him standing before her, and manages to choke out a laugh in return.

Why thank you.

Her wry reply lets him understand that she would like him to sit down next to her, and he does.

They fall back into silence, and she continues to watch the people move in front of her –

– only, this time, there is another person with her behind the glass wall; and she is grateful for what he has unknowingly done for her, eternally and overwhelmingly so.

~~~

oh yeah, I finished Inga’s scarf thing…..well, it’s a hooded scarf with pockets.

It has issues QQ pockets not large enough D:<

sigh~

finals.

hm.

ahahaah finals what are finals QQ so screwed haven’t startedstudyingyetomgomgomgomgomgomgomgwhatever -.-

good luck to you all >w<

…and I hope you’re doing better than I am.

~~~

watch gintama!

I swear it will make you feel a million times better.

It’s so full of crack.

The words, spoken softly, almost gently – a whisper, even – frightened her more than any rage-filled shriek or yell ever could.

Her blood ran cold; a freezing, chilling, all-consuming blizzard that shot through her veins.

Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, she began to walk away from him. The further she was from him, the faster her pace; faster, faster, and faster, until she broke into a sprint, running as fast as she could –

     — a glittering, metallic flash flew by, impossibly fast –

She whipped her head around for a glance that she knew she could not spare, the strands of her pink hair flying, and confirmed what she had feared. The blizzard continued its storming fury inside of her as her fear grew, and her legs, now burning, moved even faster than before.

– another flash, this time, cutting through her hair –

As the severed strands fell to the floor, limp and unmoving, the girl despaired. She knew she could not outrun him, could not avoid him, could not escape from his smoldering wrath; and yet, she continued to run.

– a flurry of glimmering lines, speeding past her, biting into her left arm –

The blood seeped through her clothes, now slashed and torn, turning them scarlet and wet with pain, a pain that persisted and bled and wept as his rage continued to lash out at her, slicing and shredding her into tiny nondescript pieces.

Now supporting her left arm with her right, her footfalls grew heavy, her breathing, labored. Slipping on her own lifeblood, she collapsed, exhausted, weary.

She could run no longer.

As she heard him approach, she closed her jaded green eyes, calmly accepting whatever fate he had in store for her…

…only to have them jerk open in surprise as his lips met hers in a crushing embrace.

- then it all faded into black -

~~~

This was my dream…except it was in first person, as in, I was the pink haired girl.

And the guy screaming was Sasuke…and the girl was Sakura…and I’m not even interested all that much in Naruto anymore…but I did see some fan-art the night before LOL

It was really awkward…and it didn’t end like that. Actually, it didn’t really end, so I had to make up something -.- sucky ending.

I’ll write the actual dream later. >w<

mkkk got the dream down:

~~~

The haze cleared away, leaving my mind clear – at least, clearer than it was before.

I found myself lying on the ground, a solid black plane that stretched indefinitely in all directions, and in the possession of a body that wasn’t my own. As I explored my newly acquired short sakura-colored hair, pale ivory skin, and curiously athletic and comfortable pink and red clothes, I was distracted by an enraged scream.

“You lied to me!”

As the decidedly male shriek rent the air, I became aware of another human presence, and of the fact that the exclamation of hatred was directed at me. As I turned towards the voice, I started with a shock of recognition.

That silky smooth, spiky raven hair, those icy cold onyx eyes, the elegantly styled clothes and the beautifully keen balanced katana that hung on his hip — I recognized them all.

From a manga I used to read.

It was Sasuke.

A couple seconds later, I realized who I must be.

I also realized that I had to be dreaming.

Before I could react, he pulled out a kunai and threw it at me, his vicious intent spilling out of him in ominous waves. It flew over my head, seemingly harmless, a silver glimmering flash of light.

Another flash, this time squarely directed at me, sped by, and to my surprise, I blocked it with a thick tome that I suddenly found in my hands. The dagger sank into the book with a sharp, heavy, thwack.

As the next kunai came flying at me, I vaguely wondered if the dream would allow me to escape harm again, and lifted up the book; but the further the blade flew, the faster it flew, and it was great difficulty that I managed to somehow block the flying knife. His lips curled up into a cruel smile.

All the while, I could not help but wonder where in the world Naruto was. Shouldn’t he be interfering with the fight?

Then again, maybe he was dead in this dream world of mine.

The next kunai flashed by, accompanied by a nasty glint that shone in his eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to defend myself from it. As the unmistakably sharp blade sliced through the delicate white skin that wasn’t mine, pain shot through my left arm, and the book slipped through my fingers, falling to the floor with a sickening dull thud.

The blood, dark red and wet, seeped through and into my torn clothes, forming a rapidly spreading patch of scarlet. All this I noted with a curious sense of disembodied detachment.

The blood must have triggered something in him, releasing of dam of fury and malice, and he hurled knife after knife with impeccable precision, a never-ending barrage of deadly, glittering lines, shooting through the air with the faint, dark promise of death.

Blade after blade sliced into my arm as I ran, stinging, biting, and burning their mark deep into my flesh. A particularly vicious throw left a deep gash along the underside of my arm, the wound overflowing with the ruby-red liquid that was essential to life and that ran in tiny rivulets all over my arm, dripping quietly, silently onto the perfectly black ground.

The blood pouring down my arm distracted me for several moments — after all, I had never seen anything quite like it — and then he was right beside me, with a devilish smirk on his face. He grabbed my right arm none too gently with his smooth fingers, and began to press the tip of a kunai, already slippery with blood, into my arm. As  I watched, the skin split cleanly under the slight pressure of his blade, and as he slid the blade across my skin, drawing a perfectly straight line, the blood welled up in tiny red dots, glistening in the light. He continued marking my arm with red, bloody lines, forming a lattice like pattern, running his blade repeatedly over the lines, over, over, and over again –

– then he disappeared, and I was left with nothing but blood pouring down my arms — but to my surprise, I found my right arm unblemished and intact –

– and then I woke up.

~~~

lulz.

and the whole time I was wondering, where’s Naruto? LOL

meeeeh >w<

blaaah why is it sideways >w<

~~~

“I wanted…

to create something.

Even I, who have a charisma that wafts of noble refinement have times when I lose confidence!

And so I had this uncontrollable urge…to try making something…

anything. It didn’t matter what.

It just so happened that dressmaking suited me best. At first, it didn’t matter. It could have been cooking or gardening.

I just wanted to make sure that I had the power…

….to make something.

Maybe I wanted to know…

…If I could create something tangible…

with my own hands.

If there could be something that wouldn’t exist without me.“

– Ayame Souma

~~~

Yup, that’s what he’s saying in those two pages, except it’s hard to read OTL

eheh >w<

~~~~

Darn it.

Why was I so vague in my past posts?

I was…and still am, rereading them to get ideas for the english narrative essay…but I have absolutely no recollection of what I was writing about.

Except for the more specific ones.

But most of them go like, “today sucked.”

….and, that’s about it.

QQ

~~~

I think I should stop knitting at school.

Or around people in general. other than family.

Because, it’s gotten to the point where everyone is saying, “That’s so cool! You’re really good at this!” To which I reply, “ah, no, I’m not, really.” -smiles sheepishly-

So either:

a. I’m being a jerk by saying no. I really should just blush and say thank you, or something.

b. I’m actually secretly happy inside about being praised by all these people, and I knit in front of them to receive more praise.

ugh.

I feel really….bad. That I’m doing this to gain attention, to gain praise.

But, regardless, I’ll still continue to do it. Of course.

I’m thinking about asking Waller if it bothers her when I knit in class…then again, since she hasn’t said anything about it…maybe I shouldn’t, because then it would seem like…I’m….I don’t know.

despicable

I should have asked before I started doing it.

~~~

I listen, straining -

hard -

- soft footsteps, approaching -

- a flare of hope, blossoming within -

then, fading, receding, into

nothing

nothing

nothing

nothing; but the sound of emptiness.

the door shuts.

cut off. from the world -

from you; and then

another door – another lost – and another, and another, and another, and anotherand another andanotheranotheranotheranotherANOTHER -

- closed doors, all around, omnipresent, surrounding, encompassing, overwhelming, impossibly so, cruelly so, painfully so-

 - there’s no way out -

- trapped, within my own walls, my own doors, my own constraints, and of my own volition -

By the doors that I closed myself.

Why?

~~~

I don’t understand how to be friendly. anymore. not really.

I’m confused.

>.>

Iono, maybe bad day today. that’s probably it.

Don’t take me too seriously

~~~

I regret pushing you away.

And you, and you, and you -

- and if I keep on going like this.

There really will be,

nothing, left. at all; except for myself, and me, and I – alone.

Commas are so useful.

~~~

It’s November!

Time to make a bunch of scarves.

Thou has saveth me, kind madam.

Community service, here I come~ 8D

OTL.

website: http://iknitmsj.blogspot.com/

Go on, click it.

You know you wanna~

8D

~~~

One week and a half until the piano teacher comes back.

Let’s see if I can make it in time.

1.5/10 songs.

I don’t think I can make it >.>

~~~

scarves scarves scarves ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh taking so long.

OTL

~~~

must start english hw.

will post english hw hahaha >w<

http://invisiblelies.wordpress.com/2011/11/13/day-im-my-brain-is-still-alive/

ta-dah.

*Correction: I’ve actually been cussing.

Oh, the horror.

~~~

I get it, I get that it’s horribly stressful and awful and tiring and impossible to pay off the mortgage to this house, since it’s so expensive, and that you moved here so that I could have a better chance at getting into a good college.

But can you please stop bringing this up every single time we argue, every single day — can you please stop telling us that if we don’t work hard, that if we don’t want this opportunity, that we’ll move?

Please just shut up.

~~~

I know I’m being unfair and selfish and a f*cking b*tch, an ungrateful child.

But seriously.

And the whole thing about how it doesn’t matter for my brother, because all he’ll ever be is an average student, at least academically? I thought you were supposed to encourage us, not put us down.

~~~

I keep on telling myself that when I grow up, I don’t want to become like you.

But I would also hate having a kid like me.

~~~

ima go start hw now.

Rifle is somewhat fun.

yeah, life sucks.

doesn’t life always suck?

life always sucks.

this sucks.

~~~

never forget spell check~

Or, fortunately, I guess.

My writing fails.

And my grammar.

See above (and throughout this whole blog) for examples.

~~~

If every day is a bad day,

does that mean that every day is a good day?

~~~

We failed so badly yesterday. OTL