blahblahbreakup.

Two months later and you're still all I can think about. I just want my life back. Today I am going to some Animania festival thing with Rachel and her fiance. Exciting. Tomorrow, nothing, next day charles' piercing maybe, next day, nothing, next day jason webley show. Woot. And all this, all of this, is without you, but you're the only one I will be thinking about, wondering where you are and who you love now. And then I see you, and it only makes things worse. Like yesterday at the movies, when you got mad for the silliest of things (and okay, I did too) and I can just never work out if you want me around or not. You call it paranoia, I call it being constantly insulted and then wondering why. What the fuck. This is us a few weeks before we broke up the first time. Me, taking pregnancy tests and texting you the result. You, drunk on a bus home from a party you didn't invite me to (okay, so I didn't know the girl, so?), too freaked out to text back. This is me a few days before, wondering if I am pregnant because my period is god knows how many days or weeks late and trying on bras and thinking only of you, buying condoms and shampoo, and you sitting at home watching tv and not even thinking about it. Probably talking to your best friend who you are now in love with more than you ever loved me. I always loved you too much. I was always too obsessed. I was then and I am now. And thousands upon thousands of buckets of wishes on shooting stars could not change that. I should know, I have tried.
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ohgod

You know what hurts the most? The fact that no amount of change, no amount of realising all my past wrongs and regrets and no amount of wishing i could go back in time will make him come back. There is nothing I can do to make him love me again. There's nothing I can do to make him hug me. I said I would try before, I did. And I guess it turned out to be a lie, even if I didn't think it was then. But god, Sean, I have seen life without you, and I don't want to see it anymore. I will, don't worry, I will see it, and I know I will get over you, even if it takes me 20 years... I just don't want to. And right now, nothing would comfort me more than seeing your face. Hearing your voice. I miss him more than I have ever missed anyone in the entire world. But that's life I guess, and I have no choice but to go on living it. Tonight I'll go to a friends house and watch young love that isn't mine and hopefully i will gather the courage to not be tempted by self pity. I should be happy that you "seemed unusually happy". I should be happy you didn't get with anyone at the party. I should be happy for you, if I do love you at all. And I do. I love you so much, and if I can thank you for nothing else it can be for the fact that you showed me I am capable of love. And, deep down, I do want you to be happy... but on some other level, perhaps on par, I don't know, I hate that you can be happy without me, when I feel so terrible without you. You said to me once that everyone has something they wanted, which if they had.. everything would just fall into place. I still don't believe that's true. But I do believe if I could have you back, knowing what I do now, I would be happier than I have ever been before. And you're the one thing I know I can never have again.
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I want to write like I have heart disease and words are the only slow and painful cure, or should we say.. treatment? I want each sentence to be another ash from which the fire inside me can be reborn. I want to feel alive. Which isn't much of a dream but it's an escalator ride from the dead-silly (no pun intended) thoughts i had a few weeks ago. Funny how you can miss someone when you're still beside them, and miss them a million times more the second you hear that car door slam, and you're inprisoned in a world that is no longer theirs.. at least until next time. I'll be seventeen in about a day's time. I don't feel seventeen, whatever that means. I remember being, perhaps, fifteen, listening to 'At Seventeen' by Janis Ian, and now here I am, disproving my own theory that I already knew her truth. Love is meant for ME, beauty queen or not.. at least, hopefully, for a week or two, AT LEAST. Love, painful, tear-off-your-skin, wet-socks love, but love all the same. I miss you, Sean.
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Like you never saw a girl before.

I don't know if you mean the things you say, but if you do we should take them and out of them we can create wonders like lollypops and wishing chairs and world peace. Or we could sell them: a dollar a dream. ..No sir, keep the change.
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Trying to rid you from my bones

Yes, I know, I'm a little girl in love and it's disgusting. And it hurts. I will always love people more than they love me. Moving on. I got top/full marks in my extention exam and upon returning it, my teacher said "What the hell? You should get this published!" and so I am rather proud. It's about time I did something worth doing, it's been a while. I have lots of work to do, it's only been a day back, but my motivation got lost at some point before the holidays and I've yet to find it. It's always in the last place you look, not surprisingly.
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Untitled

He says he's jealous of the fact that I have friends, but I would give up anythign ANYTHING, even.. ESPECIALLY my so called friends, to spend every single day with him. I have to go out with my 'best friend' tomorrow. I really don't want to. It will the first day since I got back from dad on Saturday and he met me at the airport that I will not be seeing him, and I cannot bear the thought of it.
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Another day

Listening to: Wonderwall
Spent a good portion of yesterday in his bed, and then we went out to see v for vendetta (again) with some friends. I'm scared we don't have anything to talk about anymore, that we will just exist in a vortex of kissing and touching and once it dies down, implodes we will just walk away from eachother and go on with our lives again. I think that is something he could do. Me, another story. I spent most of the time after the movie lying on a bench near the station because everyone else was just standing around making dumb jokes and throwing things and i COULD NOT BE BOTHERED anymore. He seemed annoyed at me for "lonerising myself", but what else is there to do? I am so sick of faking it. everything. yes, everything. just don't tell him that. Some days I really do want to leave school and never come back, and some days I just say that because there's ntohing else to say, nothing to talk about. I suppose, if I considered there to be any good options, I would be gone by now. But alas, there aren't, and I am stuck. here. Stuck here. If I weren't so smart I would have left by now.
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Listening to: The Ataris
Feeling: complacent
Do you ever get those days where you just want to sit around and sing along to the songs you used to love? I am having one of those right now. Today it is the Ataris, and it is one of those things that make you squeal with embarassed delight as it hits your ears, hoping thyat no one outside recognises it, but still not so secretly LOVING it. I have essays and essays and exams but it doesn't matter. Yesterday was mostly boring, but then we went back to his ploace and watched spongebob and exchanged words and saliva and I don't know where I would be without this right now, honestly. He says HE doesn't deserve ME. Irony.
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School camp.

I would go to camp a thousand times if it means he would ask me out just as many. Please please please don't let this just be 'a camp thing'.
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Lets make this.. vaguer. :P

Sean asked me out a week ago. YES, imaginary reader, THE SEAN I HAVE HAD A DISGUSTING CRUSH ON FOR TWO YEARS (little does he know!). One would think that it would be impossible for a girl to be insecure when she is being kissed and hugged almost constantly, but this one manages it. I can not shake the feeling that he is sick of me. I don't mind him talking to other girls or anything, his best friend is a gorgeous, funny and nice blonde, I'm not THAT kind of jealous freak. It's just that every time he doesn't kiss me goodbye, or doesn't.. say something to me, I feel as if he has rejected me somehow, deeply, and I really need to work on that. I miss him constantly when he isn't there, and I doubt he even thinks about my lack of presence. I am such a stalker. I am such a sucker. And I have wanted this for so long. As far back as I can remember I have felt magnetised towards him, and now it's here.. and.. I feel the same. Worse, perhaps, because I don't know where to go from here. Nothing more to ask, wish, want, I should be happy. But instead, discontent, unmotivated, TIRED. And is it wrong to feel happy when someone calls you a prize? And the best one, at that.
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Untitled

There are times in life when you're in the backseat of a car, filled with deep fried tofu ice cream and lsitening to indie pop and itjust feels. AWESOME. (And then 5 minutes later you're wishing you were never born)
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Revelation

Today S said he liked me, and I know it wasn't 'like' in the way that I used to hope for, but it's one of the nicest things I've ever heard him say, so I thought I would make note of it. I'm not sure if I should really be complemented by it though, because from my experiences he is extremely mean/rude to the people he really likes, so telling me he likes me can't be such an excellent thing, right? Nothing has been sinking in lately, it's all just bobbing around on the surface. How can I collect the shells if they never surf up onto the beach? How can I kill this awful cliche writing technique I never fail to use?
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The Living End.

Ticket to the Big Day Out: $115 Food & Nourishment: $15 Having to pretend (?) you're a lesbian so some guy with a beer hat will stop hitting on you: Priceless.
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Stupid rant.

Sometimes it's really hard to muster the strength to be nice to people; to actually engage in an interesting convereation. It's weird that I go to such lengths to avoid cruelty to animals, but when it comes to people I'm finding it harder and harder every day to have sympathy for them. I would hate myself simply on the basis that I am human, if I didn't have so many other reasons. I used to believe there ws good in people, and sometimes I kid myself that there is, but then I look at this world, where LIVING BREATHING FEELING human and non human creatures are objectified and (quite literally) stuffed down people's throats, a society where we pay for degradation and pain by the pound. It's taken how many billion years for us to get here and screw everything up? Congratufuckinglations.
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Who says I'm unfit?

Looking back at past thoughts, embodied into letters, strung together by claustrophobia, I'm thinking, was this a downhill ride or an uphill one, and if it was an uphill one, was it worth the extra effort? I hope the road begins to flatten out because my bike and my lungs have placed a bet on who's going to last the longest and I can't afford to pay up. Practise non violence, before violence practises on you. Thank you, thank you, I'm here all week. All month. All the fucking time.
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I think we're even

I hate the way that line blinks, as if waiting impatiently for me to have something to write. Like a person tapping their leather bound foot or eyes trapped dully on to yours, pretending they can see more in you than brown yolk islands surrounded by that white ocean. Do they even look you in the eye anymore? There is never anything happening. No distraction. All I can think about is that troll that's stopping me from getting to that ever elusive green grass. There's power in numbers, so naturally I am weak. And tired. and lonely. (I don't really think about myself as a person anymore. I have no aspirations, or any feelings other than the rejection and sadness I've been enduring for years. I'm just a blob of space taking up the seconds of my life, moving forward without really going anywhere. Walking on the spot)
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