The end of the world

Terrifying topic, I know. It scares even me. I was slightly freaked out.

Violent earthquakes, global disasters, record-breaking tsunamis, global warming...

I don't want the world to end.

But it doesn't have to, right? We've been predicting that it would end since forever. But still, it made me think- if some people say that the world will die in 2012, then I would love to do so many things. I will do them ASAP- I don't want to ruin my life.

First I will ask Nick out. We'll see what happens with that. I'll write on Wednesday, telling you everything about it.

Second, I will finish a book. As you can tell, I am quite a writer. But I can never finish my novels... I get to page 165 and I just give up. I don't know why... maybe I expect to much of myself.

But when I die, I won't just lie down and say, "Okay, the end's coming and I won't do a damn thing about it." I'm gonna fight. I won't go down meekly. I will stand up and look Death in the eye.

I will never surrender, even if the fiery tendrils of hell rise up and swallow up my body, I will never stop trying to make a difference, even if resistance is futile.

I will hold Nick's hand, and as his fingers shake in mine, I will stand by him, because my life isn't about me anymore. It's like my life revolves around him now, and I'm just a sideshow on the way to the main attraction.

And Nick, if you're reading this, sorry for bringing you up in 7/8 posts. (nerds, you can probably figure out the percentage of that, but I really don't care)

Nick, you are my all, and I'm sorry if I've ever hurt you. I will never do it again. And one more thing- I love you.

Field of Innocence

"Field Of Innocence"

I still remember the world
From the eyes of a child
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now

Where has my heart gone
An uneven trade for the real world
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all

I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back
Somehow it seems colder now

Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything

[Latin hymn:]
Iesu, Rex admirabilis
Et triumphator nobilis,
Dulcedo ineffabilis,
Totus desiderabilis.

Where has my heart gone
An uneven trade for the real world
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything
Oh, Where

Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything

I still remember.

-by Evanescence

This is so true- I miss being young, seeing everything as innocence, everything simple, love not yet discovered, yet believing in all those stupid fairy tales... then growing up, facing my fears, seeing all I thought I knew die in front of my eyes. Now I realize that I knew absolutely nothing. I don't want to live in the real world... I miss living in my fantasies, while shadows danced across my mind... little did I know that the sun was a lie and the shadows I never looked at were the harsh truth, and no one would listen to me but I didn't care then. Listening to everything my parents said, believing every word.

Now I know it was all a lie, and I cry myself to sleep.

The sun is like an endless freezer, not the warmth I used to know. It seems so cold...

I still remember not having a care in the world, not having to be in love, never having to do anything.

I will never forget that. I can't run from the truth anymore. I fell, and it overtook me.

I wish I could be six again.

I'm done with lying, and I'm sorry for hurting everyone I love with my overpowering mania to lie.

No more. Never again. I will never lie gain.

Christmas performance

What is it, like -6 degrees out? God, my fingers are numb.

So we had this performance-outside, of corse- for half an hour, my frozen fingers flew over my freezing silver flute, my lips almost sticking to the expensive mouthpiece. And when I ripped my flute away from my shivering mouth, the beautiful notes quivering in the freezing dark air. My friends sat beside me, our fingers matching the temperature of our flutes. But it was totally worth it, because at the end of every song, I could always look behind me and see Nick's shivering but still beautiful face shining, and it's like a small fire erupted in my chest, burning up my cheeks. We played, we played well, and we shivered while playing. My dad and my siblings weren't even there- we've only been working our butts off for the past three months!- so they were all, "You were great, Rachael! We were back in the trombone section, so that's why you couldn't see us."

Yeah. Dad's only lied to me since I was born. The truth is, he doesn't give a damn about my future writing/ musical career. I had to get my mom to by the thousand-dollar, beautiful, nickel-colored, open-holed, amazing, terrific-sounding flute. He hasn't even payed for one lesson.

Screw it.

I am an amazing artist, and I don't give a DAMN what he says, I love Nick.

Yeah.

I do.

I love him.

Don't tell him. We're friends and it's starting to be more normal between us. All I want is for him to love me-whether it's between friends or as lovers. I'm fine with being his friend- all I want is for him to be happy.

So, happy Christmas, Merry Hanukkah, Awesome Kwanzaa, or any other holiday you're celebrating, have an awesome one.

-love, Rachael

Suckiest day EVER

Yes, suckiest day ever. EVERYTHING SUCKS!!! What is the POINT!? I know it's like live and learn, blah blah blah, but like I've been through SO MUCH. I REALLY have to vent, so just listen. Or x out and have fun with your true love! That's what I'd do... but wait. I don't HAVE one.

So I found out yesterday that my cousin DIED in Iraq. She looked exactly like me, but with brown hair instead of blond. She and I were tight.

Now she's dead.

I was running late to school, and I have asthma, so my dad made me RUN the whole mile to school- and it's halfway uphill- and I got there in time, but I was the last one there. (Heh. you should see all the guys when they hear me walk in the door. Their eyes get wide and some of them blush or clear their throats)

So I have to listen to the mindless chatter of my fellow students during homeroom, when I would so rather talk about ideas but all they care about is people. It's BORING.

Heath- need I say more? Easily the most boring class EVER, I have to stay awake for 45 minutes while my teacher drones on and on and ON about violence and why it's bad and I'm thinking, Chinese water torture has to be better than this.

So finally the bell rings, I run upstairs to Civics, and have to listen to my teacher talk about "important documents." No offense to my teacher, but the class is SO boring.

So I scamper out of her room after the bell gives a faint noise, and go to my second- least-favorite class: Math.

Shudder.

We had a test. About something I wouldn't get in sixty years.

And I REALLY don't want to dwell on that. Lunch was okay, I sat next to Nick, didn't eat as usual, finished some homework, wrote, flirted, and left to my favorite and scariest class- English.

My teacher gets p.o.'d real easy, so she was yelling at us after we were talking sorta loud. And we had be quiet for the rest of the period. Like that'll ever happen. So Aaron- the guy who sits next to me, who loves me but I don't love him *ahem* offends me deeply by my cousin. The dead one. So I stonewalled him, and when I was forced to socialize, I was as cold as ice. (just like my hands)

Science. Loud, because no body will shut up. On the plus side, I sit next to Nick, and sometimes I have to point out things in his textbook, normally laying in his lap. but we were talking about depression and schizophrenia, which I have both. So it was sorta embarrassing. So we had to draw. I SUCK at drawing.

But the worst part was after Science. I have a locker on the top, someone below me, someone next to me, and someone under him. So it's totally understandable that I left something in the hallway. So I run over to band, which is on the other side of the school, and realize I don't have my music. I run over to my locker, only to hear from the guy who has the locker beneath mine to say that my Civics teacher just picked it up. So, yeah, I was mad, and I walked in to her room, teeth clenched, and asked for my folder as calmly and as quickly as possible, and then I had to RUN back to band and I was this close to being late. I have asthma, and what p.o.'d me was that I asked my Civics teacher for a pass, and she's all "that's not my responsibility." Even though she- as well as my other teachers- know about my breathing problem. And she also knew I had half a minute left, to run to band, to grab my flute, throw a chair down, reach over the clarinet players' heads for a stand, jam my flute together, frantically flip through my warm-ups to find the scale that I need, my heart beating wildly, my breath wheezing, coughing, and I feel like I'm about to puke. My band teacher, like everyone else, was way stressed out, so whenever we played something wring the whole balance quivered. I just wanted to bury my head in Nick's shirt and have him wrap his arms around me while I cry.

Is that to much to ask?

And then I had to go home, which I never really want to go to. I have to lie every second of every day.

Well, I have to go. To a concert. That I'm playing at.

Oh, God.

Well, ttyl.

Winter

For all you in Warrenton- I bet you are TOTALLY with me when I say, WHY WON'T IT SNOW!?!?!? I love the snow, especially when the sun comes out and hits it just right, so that the snow sparkles dazzlingly.
I know someone even more dazzling then the snow. I have his face stuck in my head, so here it is:
His sometimes spiky blond hair, dyed red at the tips over the summer but now he cut it so it's not quite as sexy. His dazzling smile blinds me, my heart speeding up whenever he flashes one at me, my cheeks blushing red. His nose, slightly upturned and tiny, totally is cute. Like, "Cute button nose?" His pale skin perfectly matches my completion- lighter than mine, because I have some Latino blood pulsing through my veins, even though at first glance you'd never see it. The shape of his jaw, subtly defined, yet as supportive as my bra. His cheekbones jut out under his eyes- they are very high and really well defined. His ears are slightly covered by his sandy hair, and neither are pierced. (We both hate needles. Actually, we have a lot of things in common. He's so sweet!)
And his eyes... God, they deserve an entire post to themselves, they're that hot. They are a complex color, brown if he's looking straight at you, his pupils slightly dilated when he's looking at me, but when he turns around and faces sideways, it is a very hot green-blue-gray combo.
My eyes are just blue, with an icy jut of gray around my pupils.
Now that I can read this over and say that I did an adequate job of describing the man I love, I can totally look forward to tomorrow. I play flute in my WMS band, like I've said before, and tomorrow we're playing on Main Street. I'm totally freaked, because normally we just play in our auditorium to parents and dates. So anybody walking by can hear us... including my ex.
I'm scared.

for the love of cheese

Yeah, yeah. Weirdest title ever. I needed something eye popping and- OH MY GOD, my little brother and sister are so freaking LOUD they never SHUT UP and I am TRYING to write here and *grits teeth in obvious irritation*
Oh thank god for bedtimes.
Anyway, now that my ears are beginning to stop ringing, I have to say, I really am not a normal twelve-year-old girl.
There are a number of reasons for this.
Instead of failing English or Civics like a normal seventh grader, I'm flunking math. And my dad puts so much pressure on me to be like exactly perfect at everything and I'm not. The only things I'm actually sorta good at would be writing, music, songwriting and art. which in my dad's mind are "no source of a good career" and "how do you expect to make a living for your family off your hobbies?"
Well, news flash, I'm not good at anything else.
Actually, not true. I'm fine at Science and Civics. It's just that my passion lies in sixteenth notes and in quotation marks, not in beakers. And he doesn't understand it at all!
I also have dreams about flying.
Soaring above the clouds, my tiny town giving way to the empty, clear, beautiful, free sky.
Suddenly my dream turns into a nightmare. I try to stretch my wings, but I feel no pull. I look back, see no black wings blocking out the sky behind me and feel icy fear stab my naturally fast heart.
I start spiraling downwards, the ground zooming in at an alarmingly fast rate. I scream, but no one can hear me. Besides, who would care if I died?
Then, when I'm about sixty feet from the ground, I see a face. Nick's face.
Normally after that I wake up, screaming and crying into my pillow. I think I have some issues. So lately, I've been staying up till five, just so I don't have that dream. I suffer from painful insomnia. Nick, if you're reading this, it's true. Every bit of it. And yeah, it's me. Rachael.
And love SUCKS.
And I really want to fly.