Presentation Day

So today I had to deliver my informative speech in Public Speaking. Our assignment was to pick a human rights issue and inform the class about it in the manner of our choosing, so long as it was four minutes long. We had a sheet of various topics, amongst them, Hurricane Katrina. Me being the meteorology nerd that I am, I jumped on that topic. However, I was instructed that somebody else would be doing the same topic, so I needed to pick a human rights issue that wasn't similar to his.

Sunday rolled around, and I knew I [finally] needed to get some work done. After scrolling through various things that had gone on in the wake of the storm, I came across a horrifying human rights violation. A prison in New Orleans was under fire after all of its deputies abandoned prisoners--who had not even been formally charged for their crimes!--and left them to die in floodwaters. Not only that, they were violent, abusive, and cruel to the prisoners during the evacuation.

This was my topic. After 3 grueling hours of wording everything just right, I was content with my work and got it ready for presentation day.

Today finally rolled around, and the class was... small. Only 16 kids, a third of which were also presenting. They strolled into the class, all complaining of being nervous and afraid. Strangely, I wasn't. I was laughing and joking and helping the rest get over their nerves. I told them that I would purposelly trip and fall down during my presentation to loosen the atmosphere up. (They cheered me when I actually didn't.) They asked me what my "defense mechanism" for dealing with my anxieties was, and I replied, "Humor."

When it was my turn to present, I was given the timer. I put it to the side and didn't bother with it. Instead, I looked down once at my notes, and had a quick epiphany.

In elementary school, I used to write stories and poems every day during the English portion of the class day. When the teacher would ask for volunteers, I'd excitedly jump up and run to the front of the class, where I'd read my stories and leave the audience wanting more.

I decided that this was what I was going to do today. Inhaling deeply, I looked to my audience of 16 and proceeded to tell my story of horrors, abuse, violence, and misery. In my mind, I repeated, "I'm just reading my story. Just reading my story." I looked out to the students, and they were leaned forward in their desks, hanging onto my every word. When I went into how the prisoners were shot for attempting to escape, several of the girls actually gasped and were visibly shaken.

When my presentation was over, there was a long moment of silence before the class broke into applause. Not the generic applause done strictly for politeness, either. I grinned to myself as the students all said, "You kept me interested. You grabbed my attention, and you kept it."

The professor turned, looked me in the eye, and said, "Your words were so strong and vivid, and your tone matched your words. You made me feel like I was actually there, experiencing the terror the prisoners experienced. You have a gift, and I'm very impressed."

The only issue she had with my speech was how two of my points seemed to be the same thing, which I sort of had anticipated. Grinning even more, I sat back in my little square in the corner of the classroom and faded off into nobody again... but for four and a half minutes, I was the professional storyteller.

Outside of having a nasty hypoglycemia episode this afternoon, today couldn't have gone any better. And tomorrow starts my favorite month of the year, which makes today even better. To quote SpongeBob Squarepants, "I am a happy sponge!"

I'm going to play a little bit of Luigi's Mansion before calling it a night. There's only one more level left until I beat the game [for the fifth time]... And Luigi's gentle disposition reminds me of somebody special, which makes it even better.

School Recap. I'm Boring Like That.

Wee, what a fun day. I don't think I know what sleeping late is any more! XD

At any rate.

School is in full-swing, lemme tell you. I've had two exams already, on in Microeconomics and one in Math.

Microeconomics was a fun exam to get back. The professor did a run down of the grades, and it looked something like...

A: 5
B: 11
C: 16
D: 11
F: 26

...Yeeeeah. The further he went down the chain, the worse we all sank in our seats. Since our median grade was a 64, he gave everybody 6 points so that the median would be at 70. Apparently he does this for every test, so...

Without the buffer, I had a 76... with it, an 82. I went over the test and found out I'd done some math backwards on the problem sets. Simple mistakes, but nonetheless left me a tiny bit cranky. I guess an 82 isn't bad... considering my homework average is a straight 100, I'm sitting on a very low A in the class.

Math was a fun exam, too. She told us that a lot of people did very badly on the first test... then on test day she wasn't there because she was in Arizona... at a football game. Oi. Anyway, we finally got around to getting our tests back, and I had managed a 91. I'll take it, especially since she had everybody so convinced we were gonna fail.

In your face, Math professor.

At any rate, Tuesday is my first big speech in my Public Speaking course. The assignment was to prepare a four-minute informative presentation on human rights in any given scenario (from the approved topics list, of course). I finally chose to do my presentation on the abuse of prisoners after Hurricane Katrina. I spent a grand total of three hours on the damn thing today, getting it accomplished two days before it was due. (This is... very impressive. Normally I'm scrambling Monday night for these things.)

Do I think it's four minutes? No. Do I even think it's an A? No. Probably a B, but doubtful it's an A. I don't strive for perfection in Public Speaking. I hate it anyway, despite having a natural gift for getting up in front of a crowd and being able to give my performance without any notes whatsoever. It's an uncanny talent I have.

You know what's very odd for me? Not having an English class this semester. I finished all my required English courses with the spring term, after composing my amazing A-paper on the theme of "the moment of grace" that's found in Flannery O'Connor's works. (Okay, nobody really cares about it, but I was damn proud of that paper!) I was listening to some other students on Friday as they ranted about their English professors and having to write analytical papers, and realized... outside of having to do research for Public Speaking, I don't have any research essays to write. Liberating!

Yeah, I really had nothing better to ramble about except my educational progression. I can't wait for Tuesday morning, 9:15, when my speech is done.

Until I come up with something better to ramble incessantly about, I'm gonna catch a shower, check up on my laundry, and eventually get around to wondering what Daddy wants to do for dinner. The concept of making ramen again has sorta worn thin.

Another Memorial?

I fell into an emo mood reflecting on a long-lost companion... it progressed into other things... which inspired this sad little piece.

Bells

A bell has tolled
So long ago
For you
When you were so abruptly
Taken away

A sound so short
But hurt so long
A noise so quiet
Yet shattered my heart
In pieces so tiny
I couldn’t ever make them
Whole again…

The first time I
Called out for you
After that day
The silence hit like a train.
Isolation enveloped me,
I couldn’t help but
Remind myself
Just how much I couldn’t be
Without you…

In the air
The echoing bell
Rings into
Forever.
Just like my love…
Just like my heartache…

Time heals all wounds
Or so it’s claimed,
But these bruises
Have yet to fade.
These cuts
Won’t cease to bleed.
The tears
Continue to flood my soul.
No matter how much
Time goes by…
I hear the bells.

In the corners of my eye
You smile at me
But if I dare to blink,
You’ve disappeared.
In the backs of my mind
I hear your voice
But when I try to reply
I’m answered with silence.
On the nerves beneath my skin
I feel your touch
But when I reach out to embrace
I only grasp the air.

No matter how much
Memorabilia of you
I put up in your honor
It never will replace
The completion I had
When you were at my side…

And so the bells toll again.
I put my head in my hands
And drown myself a while.

Blah...

Well, as I've officially got nothing better to do, I'm about to go upstairs and call it a night.

I just thought I'd get it off my chest that I have a friendship that no longer feels the way it used to. The whole conversation left me feeling awkward, distant, and different. Then it just cut off abruptly. But knowing how things have been lately, I should've not been offended or surprised by it. Too bad that I was highly upset by it.

I used to consider this friend my twin. Almost everything about us was identical, from our sense of humor to our laughter at times. But now it's as if the connection between me and this friend has severed, and it's as if I don't know this person any more. Half the time, I don't even want to bother because it always makes me sad...

I guess I've lost my "twin brother."

I'm gonna go lay down and try to shake off the sadness and offense I've taken... and try to get the bitter taste out of my throat.

And maybe forget bothering with logging Skype on anymore. It doesn't matter much any more, anyway.

That Second Piece

I knew there was another piece brewing in me.

This piece will be much easier a read than my previous piece below it. This will be symbolic... gentle, soft, symbolic, and... sad. Tears were shed producing this piece.

I don't know what else to say... except... I sometimes reach out in mysterious ways.

Fly Away

Spring day
A child in play
Finds an egg in the road--
Tiny,
Vulnerable,
Abandoned...
Picks it up and
Takes it home.

With gentle care,
A life is born--
Tiny hatchling bird
Cradled in the hands
Of its newfound protector
Peeps helplessly,
Flaps its wings defenselessly.
The protector holds it close,
Keeps it safe from harm.

The hatchling grows,
With time takes flight--
Explores the world around it
With curious eyes.
Feels the wind lift it high,
Sees things with different views.
So beautiful!
So wonderful!
But it never strays from
The safety of its guardian,
Two best of friends,
The child and his bird...

The time goes by.
The child releases the bird
From his hands
Watches it soar into the sky
And smiles at its flight.
Beautiful blue sky
Engulfs the tiny creature
The child hears its melody sing...
His heart sings the same tune.

But the snowfall comes
And the bird falls ill,
Time ticks by so quickly.
And soon enough,
The child asks himself why
Looks at his fallen friend,
Tiny body,
So full of flight,
Forever grounded
Will fly no more.

The child takes his friend
Sets it into rest
Puts a yellow daisy
Upon the bedside
His eyes give warm rains--
Gentle streams
Without words,
But needing none.

For a moment,
Closes his eyes tight
Sees the bird in his mind--
Fluttering and twittering
Singing of happiness and mirth.
He whistles the melody one last time
And looks up to the sky.

Amongst the grey winter clouds,
He sees a small blue opening.

Little child looks at his bird's bed
Whispers softly,
"I miss you so.
I watch you fly away..."

Speaking Out of Left.

I started this off as an essay about some random musings I've had today, but it turned poetic on me. I know it's craptastic that I tend to write in prose a lot, but my poems are how I reveal myself to the world.

So here it is. It is very... surreal. It's cryptic, surreal, and dreamy. Much like my mood.

Thirty at Twenty to Ten

Glassy stare
Pair of mirrored globes
Through walls pierce
Hollow glances
Into space.

Frantic visions
A child holds a remote
Changes the channels--
Ultraviolet rainbows
Flashing and blinking,
Never ceasing,
Races past the eyes
But registers no
Memory.

Distant noises
Playing with a radio
Between the stations
Static and crackles
Snapping unrhythmically
Hazy voices hiding
The ears hear everything
And nothing.
What is there to pick up
In a void of
Static echoes?

In the mirror
I see her--
My twin self.
But yet she is nothing
Like I.
I touch the portal,
The cold reminds me
She is real,
But is she me?

Do I deny her existence
Because she's not
What I am?
Do I embrace her wholly
For that same reason?
We all grow up--
Grow old--
Change form and shape...
Nothing is constant.

Nothing is forever.

The others of my years
Speak of interests
I cannot comprehend.
They enjoy themselves--
Laughter rings--
But I am blind...
I see no humor.
I am deaf...
I hear no joy.

They go in
Clusters
Playing in bright lights
Toying with
Objects both
Bodily and
Internally...

I go alone,
Thirty at
Twenty to
Ten.

I may be writing up another piece shortly. In my mind, I don't feel finished.

A Dive into Political Outcries.

Want to read my first ever political poem?

No?

I'm posting it anyway.

And yes, I'm angry as I post this.

Onward, Downward

Onward!
Downward!
We press towards the future
As we spiral down to earth
Falling and feuding,
Must have the last word,
The dying declaration
Of dominance…

For what?
For what is any use
Of it?
To be better than one
And strive to be on top,
But yet we die—
Yet we all die—
All become the same,
Equal,
No one better than another
Simply bodies in the dust.

You claim to be
Better than me,
To be a ranking
I cannot achieve.
But I laugh at you
See me smile?

Look at you,
Wrapped up in gold
It’s not a shield,
It makes you not
Immortal
To the limits of mortality,
Invincible
To the blows of Father Time,
Immune
To the feelings
The “rest of us”
Perceive.

Look at your peers,
Drinking black, thick champagne
They drown the rest
With their drink
Watching us writhe
Sitting back on plushy thrones
Admiring the view,
Laughing at the weak.

And while you trudge onward,
I watch you fall downward.
Your elegant fall from grace…
It has such a bitter taste…

Because when you fall,
You take us all along.

Cynical Musings.

Probably a bad idea for attempting to write while drowsy, but meh.

Speaking of "meh," that's the emotion of the day. I've been very sleepy since about 10 AM today, which leaves me very surprised that I haven't bothered crawling into bed for a short nap. I probably will sometime after this entry, though, as I'm feeling down and out as it is.

Yesterday was pretty routine... a Microeconomics exam and factoring in math. Not a whole lot to say there.

Today hasn't been good, but it hasn't been bad, either. Just one of those dull "in the middle" sorta deals. I helped Daddy cover the pool. Now when I look into the yard for the next six months or so, I'll get to see a nice grey tarp.

That's almost how I feel right now. Kinda like there's this grey tarp over me. There's so much I want to do, but I can't. And having to say no to it bums me out so much. Actually, I'll take it a step beyond "bummed out." I'm willing to say it flat out depresses me. Nothing like a healthy dose of "guess what you can't do" to make you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

I got to chase down that dose of fun with a 30/100 on my last Geology quiz. At least the one I took today, I was better prepared for. I don't think I've yet to pass any of those stupid quizzes. Mmm, bitter taste, how I love it so.

On a completely different note, it sure has been fun to watch the world spiraling out of control. At least, the city of Columbus seems to be disgruntled. We have no fuel at all, anywhere in the city. Not only that, I read that we had our 17th murder this year, and it was a random, senseless act. So when do we fall into total anarchy? I'm waiting on it.

...When you get to your Geology class and feel like crying your eyes out, that's when you know it's going to be one of those days.

If I weren't so sleepy, I'd go take a long, long walk in the cemetery. Leave my car in the front and walk the entire thing, checking out the dates and the names... looking at the faux flowers that'll never die. They hold more symbolism than simply showing somebody cares. The flowers will never die; the memories of the dead will never die. Maybe I'd go lay in one of the masoleums. Lay down and stare up at all the people sleeping around me. Read a name and imagine their life story.

I guess I'm morbidly, cynically depressed today. But yeah... It just wouldn't be me if I weren't.

I hope everybody has a good day... I'm going to try to sort out mine.

Hoping to Sleep This Time.

Well, I'm off to bed, hoping to sleep this time.

Every night this past week, I've been having difficulties with sleeping. At 4 AM I keep waking up and looking at the clock, feeling like I need to be watching out for things. I wake up exhausted with difficulties in getting up. It's the same thing every night, which makes me pay attention to it.

At any rate, I'm really hoping to get some sleep, as Mama called me up earlier tonight and informed me that she, Mike, and Shelby were coming down to town tomorrow afternoon, and asked if I wanted to go to lunch with them. I'm very excited, as I've not seen them all since mid-August. Especially getting to see my sister again. I can't wait to look her in the eye and saying, "Mah boi!"

...That's one of those things you have to see to understand. XD

Today was a fun day. I didn't go to my Microeconomnics class, as it was a voluntary "only show up if you need help before the test on Monday" things. I spent that hour in the lounge, where my stupid media device froze up not even halfway in. Every three or four days, the stupid thing locks up and I have to drain it dead and recharge it so it'll work again. Irritating thing, but I'm nothing without my music.

So, Math class provided an irritating amusement. Today was our first test day, and I was fully prepared to go into class, nail the test in 30 minutes, and have the rest of the morning. When 9 rolled around, the professor didn't show up. Five minutes passed, and we started wondering. Ten minutes passed, and we were declaring our desire for compensation for the lost time. Fifteen minutes passed, and we were ready to go.

Our campus has a 15-minute rule. If the professor doesn't show up within 15 minutes of class starting, the class can leave a piece of paper with their names on it and leave. As we started making our attendance sheet, a substitute sauntered into class. She told us that, despite the 15-minute rule, if we left, she'd fail all of us. We told her she showed up 17 minutes after class, but yeah.

Fortunately, the test was easy as hell. So my 30-minute goal became a 45-minute one, and I didn't really get out any earlier than I would on a normal day. So blah.

At any rate, my head feels very heavy, as I've had an interesting night, involving a very random episode of crying and hyperventilating. Fortunately, it only lasted 8 minutes, but it was enough to drain me down to nothing. I think I needed that vent, as I'd been refraining from being too emotional the week past while attempting to get my sleeping issue in line.

Hell, maybe the abrupt emotional vent will make the 4 AM deal ease off. We can only hope.

Anyway, I'm sleepy. It's bedtime.

Pre-Bedtime Ramble.

I'm attempting to write while medicated on herbal remedies and a pain pill that is known to make me drowsy. Let's see how well I can make a coherent thought.

I'm sick, but I'm not. That's how it seems, anyway. I go to class and am fine, then come home and get hit with random symptoms. Today I had cold shudders, severe dizziness, and bad nausea. (I was so dizzy I couldn't really see straight; I was shuddering so badly that my knees buckled when I tried to stand.) Yesterday it felt like I was inhaling bleach; my lungs were hurting and I had issues breathing. And it comes and goes in waves. I felt sick for an hour, slept for two, then was okay for an hour before being sick for two, and so on. Hence why I took the medications, one to ease my insomnia and one for my body aches. Meh.

It's peculiar. When I left the house to run an errand earlier this evening, the sick feeling went away. I don't know what to make of it.

Tonight I keep seeing things out of the corners of my eyes, but I'm telling myself it's the melatonin I'm taking. Last night, while trying to sleep, I kept having wild and scary hallucinations that kept me waking up paranoid. But melatonin has never made me behave like that before...

Again, it's something I don't know what to make of.

At any rate, I guess I need to try and sleep. We'll see what happens.

Connected Posts.

Here's a poem to go along with my earlier post. I knew I'd write something emo.

Sedated Sorrows

Isolation—
The fullest feeling
Though nothing at all,
Feels the hardest by far…
Takes space
And fills it with
Nothing.

Time ticks slow
Seconds are years
With minutes being centuries
But clocks move faster—
Lie to her,
Reassure her
That she’s wrong.
And so she is.

Inhales strong
Pierces the lungs
With invisible plumes of
Burning air
Aroma of unseen perfumes
Causes pain in the chest.
Holds her breath,
But only a temporary fix.

Lays in bed
Buried in thick quilts
That refuses to keep her warm.
Stares at a ceiling
That fades into obscurity
Sees into space
Yet sees no stars.

In her eyes
A world in clouds,
Stormy grey,
Threatens rain.

In her throat
A voice imprisoned,
Chokes herself
On unsaid words.

Rolls to the side
Stares into the wall
Digs nails into skin
Searches for red…
Only finds blue.

Wanders blind,
Touches the prison walls
Navigates aimlessly.
Finds the container,
Retrieves the solution.
Away she goes.

Takes a quick drink
Washes the solution all away.
Wanders to her containment cell
And stares into the wall again.

Staring…

Her body floats,
Her head drowns.
Eyes flood oceans—
Throat quivers with sound.

And here comes the dark
To safely lead her
From her place
Laying in a disheveled room
To distant realms
Known only in imagination.

Sinking now!
Heavy body drags her under…
She doesn’t fight.
There is no point.
Looks up at the surface above
Smiles in false satisfaction…
Rolls back her reddened eyes.

The knives on her fingers’ ends
Release the grip on her arms
Leaves a roadmap behind
For future return.
But she needs not the directions—
The trail was memorized
Long ago.

Breathing slows
To delicate sighs.
Heartbeat drops
To rhythmic pulses.
She looks at peace—
Comfortable and calm.
And yet they’ll never know.

Such is the misery
Of sedated sorrows…

Remarkably, no, this isn't a suicide poem. This is simply a poem about a girl who takes a sleeping pill to make herself sleep away depression.

...Yeah, I took an herbal supplement, which is why I wrote it. I should be unconscious soon enough.

I'm throwing myself back into my 104 stories project.

Breathing Bleach?

I lacked a better title.

So yeah.

I didn't have my Public Speaking class this morning, which meant I got to sleep until the late hour of 7:30. Went to Geology at 11, learned that my last quiz gave me a 57/100. Sat through a lecture I didn't feel like going to, reading and drifting in and out of consciousness. It was a relatively cool day, so the walk was nice.

Picked up lunch for me and Daddy, ate in silence. He napped until 1:40, then got ready for work and left me alone at 2:45. Since I'd not slept that well the night before, and had a heavy lunch, I attempted to lay down for a nap.

At about 3:30, I was sharply awoken by eight hard, sharp bangs on my wall. This disturbed me because (1) I was supposed to be alone, and (2) my room is on the second floor of a tall house. I fell out of bed, quickly shutting and locking my bedroom door (as if that'd give me security), and looked out into the yard. Of course, there was nothing.

I slept with my TV on and my door locked tight.

I stirred again at about 6:00 after having a weird dream that I can't quite remember. Headed for the computer... found neither of my friends online. So I logged onto YPP, where nobody cared to socialize. Logged it off, watched YouTube for 20... got sad. Played Mario Strikers for all of 5 minutes before it lost its interest.

Strangely, began to feel like I was inhaling bleach. The air around me smells of chlorine and bleach, and my nose/chest/lungs burn like hell when I inhale. This has been going on for nearly 2 hours.

Went downstairs, made a tasteless TV dinner, and watched half an episode of How It's Made. Ate without really bothering to enjoy it, although tasteless meals have nothing to enjoy about them anyway, I guess. I spent that 10 minutes staring blankly at the screen, and can't say I remember much about the show at all.

Came back upstairs, plugged into my music, logged back onto YPP, and started up YouTube again. I'm so freaking interesting, it's sickening.

So yeah. I'm sitting here talking to nobody, looking at videos I've watched hundreds of times, and summing up just how much of a goddamned waste of life I am. Look at me! I sit on a computer for hours on end, talking to myself because I'm so frighteningly pathetic, I don't bother making--get this--friends!

I hate myself so damned much right now. What the hell is my friggin' problem? Maybe my imagining inhaling bleach/chlorine is some kind of sign.

Maybe I'll write another "cut your wrist" emo poem. But who reads my poetry?

Whoop-de-friggin'-do. I'm such a ray of sunshine.

Feeding My Intellectual Side.

As I seem to be having a weekend completely alone, I'm cruising the TV for movies to occupy my mind.

This morning, I came home from class and decided to make some spaghetti and tea. As I was waiting on my spaghetti to be ready, I was surfing channels when I came across the movie rendition of my favorite Shakespeare play, Hamlet. As it runs until 1 this afternoon, I'll have something to occupy my time.

I guess I'll be feeding my intellectual side for a little bit. I studied the play in my senior year of high school, and fell in love with it. I wrote one of my best informative research essays, researching the role of character foils, with it.

I do enjoy more intellectual pursuits, such as literature and solving algebraic equations for the hell of solving them. I just don't normally dive into my intellectual persona, as it drives me to cynical, critical thinking as well as periods of isolation while I focus on my train of thoughts.

But as I have a lonely weekend ahead of me, it won't hurt anybody's feelings if I tune out the world, and everybody in it, for a while.

For the next three days, only I exist. Nobody else.

I'll come back to reality on Monday.

Farewell until then.

Insomnia's Results.

This morning, I spent a lot of time outside sitting on the ledge looking over a courtyard at school. I turned on my music, leaned back, and found myself lost in a sea of thoughts. I was greatly inspired by it, and it caused me to produce the following:

Storybook Spirit

They read a book
In order to dream
But I
Can dream awake
Writing my own stories
By heart…

Sounds to me, symphonious
An orchestra of reality
Plays song notes
Drums in my ears
A multitude of melodies…
No composition sounds the same.
Like characters
Unique…
Abstract concepts…
Fabricated by a creative soul
Who is rumored,
Never seen.

Sights are illustrations
That no one sees alike
Every blink,
A new page,
New world to behold.
Spectrum of colors
So many seen
But so many obscured
Invisible
But existing
Floats in space unknown.

Characters
Claimed imaginary
Are most real of all
But left in blinded corners
That kill them over time.
Characters
Claimed reality
Just alike,
Die in similar manners,
We all end up the same.

A storybook spirit
Pulses in this body
Held in confines of mortality
Writes a plea in
What she does
Sends a prayer to the
Writer,
Grant me eternity…
Immortality…
Etch me in a stone
And let me dwell here
In my storybook world
Always…

It's a strange piece, that even I found peculiar. I do like it, though.

Anyway. I came home and had a wild psychic experience. My hands began to quiver, and my fingers began to play an imaginary piano. I was then overcome by the image of a chuch and an elderly man; I heard a church song. When it was all said and done, I got up, ran to the paper, and found an obituary of a man who'd been very loyal and active in his church and its choir. It was insanity. I think that my extrasensory abilities have been getting a boost from somewhere.

I'm having a slight battle with my insomnia, which causes me to forget to sleep. However, on the flip side, it encourages me to do some deep, almost philosophical thinking. I guess it's a trade-off.

I'm going to take an herbal remedy and see if it'll get me to have some decent sleep tonight.

Morning Mumblings.

Sleep is good. This is the rumor, anyway: Sleep is gooood.

...Then how come I can't get any?

I'm thinking about bailing out of school after my Geology quiz this morning... since he doesn't take attendance, it wouldn't matter if I stayed or went. Odds are, I won't do it. I'll stay through class, then come home and forget to sleep.

Insomnia is fun. I've forgotten how fun it is. It comes and goes in waves.

Anyway, time to get ready to leave for school.

Insert Subject.

Feels like the battle begins. Something's making its presence known, and it's nothing good. First time in years that I've run from an entity.

I don't know what its gender is, although the face looked masculine when I first saw it. Its skin is a dark, sickly grey, and decomposing. It has no eyes, just empty sockets, and black teeth. It was monitoring me last night while I was on Skype, caused both me and my love to have nasty nightmares... then this morning it jumped into my face and howled.

I don't know what it is, who it is, or what it wants. All I know is that it's malicious. I think it's the cause of my physical unrest and frailty lately, as I seem to get horrid headaches and dizzy spells when it's somewhere nearby. Today my body stayed cold all day, even when I went out into the 90-degree weather.

I'm trying to keep a tally of all the things that happen... all the things I see/hear/feel... looking for a pattern. But I was so unnerved this morning that I went to class shaking... and didn't stop shaking for an hour.

If I weren't so woozy and sleepy, I'd write more on the subject...

All I know is this is weighing heavily on me.

Cause for Alarm?

I'm about ready to go to bed, considering it's running well near 3 AM. I'm just a little bothered, and I know that if I don't get it out in the open, it'll plague me all night and I won't sleep.

I've been having some episodes with headaches lately. Daddy says that out of the past 7 days, I've reported bad headaches at least 4 of them. These are the bad ones that come with the nausea and dizziness, too, not just your normal, run-of-the-mill headaches. These are headaches that typically linger at about a 6 or better on my 1 to 10 scale.

(Even as we speak, I'm brewing a 7.)

Daddy says that he's a little bit worried about this, because these constant headaches are by no means normal. He says that this could be red flags to other, more worse conditions that are currently hiding dormant. He tells me that if they continue, he'll want me to go to a doctor.

I'm not sure what to think on this issue. Migraines run in our family (both my sisters, my niece, and Daddy have them), yet my migraines are only once every 4 months. I was in a nasty car accident a few years back in which I suffered an awful concussion, but my headaches from it happen once every few weeks. These headaches just seem to come out of nowhere, for no reason, and linger for 18 to 20 hours at a stretch. I wasn't really thinking about it all that much until Daddy voiced his concern.

My immune system is not as strong as everyone else's. I get bronchitis once a year, and it's always very bad and stays with me for 2 months. I get colds and sinus problems all the time. If it involves my respiratory system, odds are, I'll catch it. And ever since that surgery back in May...

...Maybe I should take these headaches seriously.

Anyway, my head feels like it's swimming, and it's hard to keep this typing up. So...

Yeah, I just wrote this to get it off my chest. Sorry if it's a waste of space.

From Bad to Worse?

Apparently I'm going to need to do some serious work.

The activity flared up again to a dangerously high state. Apparently I was overshadowed not once, but three times. According to Eric, who was on Skype and listening, I was suddenly growling in a low, deep, male voice that sounded ominous and demonic. He said that whatever gripped me told him "No" when he insisted that it leave me. The third time it got a hold of me, it stabbed into my brain and apparently did some typing through me... taunting Eric about "I will take her," "I will have her," and "She is mine."

The third time felt ominous, because the last time something felt like it pierced my brain, I felt dead for 10 minutes and nobody could connect to me. (As I typed this, I just had this horrible smell hit my nose... like decomposition or something.) There was a gap in time tonight that I can't happen to recall.

So apparently something is stalking after me. I don't know who it is, what it wants, or why it wants me... I guess I'll be figuring this all out in the future.

In the meantime, I'll be saying prayers for protection every night, and keeping my key necklace with me. For some reason, the key makes me feel protected. I'm not sure why...

Other than that, it was a relatively good day. I just wonder what the hell has sparked this flare-up in the house. And with the weekend coming up, and me soon to be alone for long periods... I don't think I'll be sleeping well.

I'll need a support system, I think.

Regardless... I'm off to try to sleep.

Very Frightening Happenings...

Something's buzzing in this house. I don't know what it is... but the activity in this house has flared significantly, and I'm starting to become slightly rattled.

The other night I saw a strange ball of light hovering about my sister's bedroom. Daddy went to the store today and left me alone for a good hour, when I felt something beckoning me. It pulled me towards my sister's room... I wandered into the room, and sat down exactly where I saw the ball of light from the night before. Immediately, every ounce of strength in my body was depleted.

I laid down on the bed and stared at the wall, unable to lift myself. I was so tired... dizzy... wanted to sleep. As I was drifting, I felt two hands push down onto my shoulder blades. Then suddenly, in my left ear... I heard what sounded like a woman's gasp of horror. A quick, sharp, loud, shuddering gasp... plain as day. I sprang up and whirled around, but nobody was there. I was alone. I knew I was alone. But yet... I didn't leave. I laid back down.

Five minutes later, I heard Daddy announce to me that he was home, and I heard his keys hitting the mantle above the fireplace. Figuring he'd need help with the groceries, I came down the stairs.

Daddy had not yet arrived home.

The dizziness and heaviness in my body continued, and I decided to get some fresh air. I grabbed a slingshot, some pellets, and went onto the back porch, aiming at a fence post. As I was doing this, I heard rustling and whistling... again, I looked and found nothing. Daddy arrived home, and I couldn't have been more relieved.

Things quieted down for a while, but flared up horribly in the last hour...

I was on Skype with Eric, when all of a sudden he told me that my side of the conference dropped out and was replaced by "rolling thunder with whispering voices mixed in." He said it happened six times, and that his room was growing cold every time it occured. About the same time, the air around me was growing chilled. Suddenly, a yawn was heard on the chat... we asked each other at the same time, "Was that you?" ...Neither of us had done that yawn.

I've seen black orbs, shadows on my bedroom walls... I've heard the voices, I've been touched... they're interacting with the world around me...

Something in this house is flaring up. I don't know if it's good or bad, but I'm slowly losing my resolve. Even as we speak, the air around me is steadily chilling, and I've felt somebody literally walk through me.

I must attempt to get some sleep, but with everything that's beginning to occur here, I'm not so sure it'll be possible.

Send me protection prayers. I think I may need them.

Just One of Those Days...

I guess today was just one of those days of typical Dani luck.

Walking towards Communication class this morning, there was a group of maintenance men cutting grass and blowing the sidewalks. Right as I was parallel with them, one of the men turned right around and blew grass clippings right into my face. People found it funny. My allergy attack did not. Should've known it was just the beginning.

Took my first quiz in Communication... failed it, I'm sure.

Wandered off during my two hours off to go look for the elusive mathematics book, only to find the campus bookstore had once again sold out right before I got there. So I bought a calculator and a book for Geology and wandered back across the campus. Proceeded to find a quiet place to myself when a group of people came in and sat right under me, talking loudly. They looked offended when I packed up and left after sighing in disgust.

Arrived in Geology class... had a quiz... failed it beautifully. I got only one question right. Fortunately, I was in a majority... but I verbally lashed myself the rest of the class because natural disasters are my thing, and I completely blanked out.

Left campus and nearly got run over in the process. Was driving towards a local bookstore and nearly saw three separate wrecks... then nearly got run down by a huge truck. By the time I'd parked my car at the bookstore, I was shaking and irate. Fortunately they had the elusive math book, so I quickly purchased it and went home.

With nothing better to do, I made a lunch of pasta in a buttery garlic sauce and did some math homework while eating. I then realized I had nothing to do once again. After watching TV with Daddy for about an hour, I decided to go swimming.

I hit the water and furiously swam laps until my entire body was tight. Of course, it all locked up while I was in the deep end... strangely, I let myself linger under the water until I nearly felt my lungs explode, just listening to the water echoing and feeling the inability to breathe and the weightlessness. After an hour or so of wearing myself out, I climbed out and hobbled into a shower.

I really thought the swimming would help my downward mood... it did nothing more than leave me tired and empty. I watched more TV with Daddy, made dinner, and talked on Skype for maybe 2 hours before the other person decided to go to bed. I feel sick, I've smashed a toe into the desk three times, and I'm shuddering with loneliness.

It's been a good day.

I wish I did something interesting, like everybody I know. Everybody has something fun and exciting... everybody gets to go places and see people...

What do I do? I write. I sit in a stupid little room and write. Write poems that nobody makes sense of; stories nobody will ever read; blogs that simply whine and bitch and moan about everything I can stand to think about. My life revolves around things I can put into a written perspective... yet I write papers for school and get told "it didn't make sense" or "it was unconventional" or "needs improvement."

Why can't I be exciting? Why can't I have the life I listen about from two of my best companions? I'd love to be somebody else, just for a day... to see either how good I've got it, or how craptastic a life I really live.

I hope my better half had a better day than I did today. It's always comforting to know that someone I love has a better time than me.

Here. Another shining example of what I "do." How do I feel? Read below.

Blue-Inked Pen

Blue-inked pen with empty stationary
She scribbles another book
Of reality... but on the contrary!
But it's simply just mistook

As another tiny fairy-tale--
A story of pure imagination.
But how can she write so well
Things that are but fabrication?

Blue-inked pen and many lines
She writes them on her arms,
All the stories that dare to define
Every single quirk and charm...

But they look at it with blinded eye
Insist it's incomplete
And when the message is left to die
She writes of another defeat.

They think she's sickly obsessed
With the twisted and the bleak
Never know that she's obsessed
For acceptance's all she seeks.

Blue-inked pen with reddened tip
She's depressed and full of doubt
The saddened whispers pass her lips,
"They'll never know what I'm about."

And so she puts away her pen
Sadly lays herself to sleep,
Waits for it to write again
About the truths she dares to keep.

Drowsy ramblings.

I don't know what's going on exactly, but even in my waking state I feel like I'm asleep. Asleep and dreaming, floating on clouds in the middle of space, numb to things that touch my physical being while seeing things with my internal sense. It feels like my body just slowly drifts in space, floating and spinning gently in a warm atmosphere that neither moves or is moved. Maybe I'll write a poem about it, as I just can't explain it.

It's neither good nor bad; happy nor sad... it's just... there.

Waking Dreams

Wide open eyes
Cloudy and green,
Watch as time flies...
Sees the unseen.

Drifts through the air
Heavy without weight,
Missing worldly care
In a trancelike state.

Mirror to the inside
Slowly begins to close...
All the feelings hide
In places no one knows.

The feeling's gone away
Burning strongly from within.
Dreams, they do not stay,
But playing once again...

The emptiness is vivid,
So colorless and bold.
And happiness is morbid--
The fire's burning cold.

Orbits in a spinning sphere,
A path that leads to black...
Nowhere there and anywhere here,
With no trails left to track.

The mirrored globes awaken,
Sets light upon a face.
There's truly no mistaken
The fullness of empty space.

Walking feet never hit the ground
The body feels not a thing
Makes a speech that has no sound
But emotion it does bring.

When the soul is lost in thought,
Lost in time, it seems...
Stand back and witness someone caught
In another waking dream.

Pleasantness.

I spent the evening scribbling on my story, which I have been neglecting the past few weeks. I wrote until I couldn't any more, and rereading over it, I couldn't be happier with it.

The task was to write a light-hearted and softer chapter in a story that was full of anxiety and action. Surprisingly, I found myself well up for the task... and after throwing in a minor drama for a lead-in, I found the ending to be the beautifully sweet piece I wanted it to be. I reread it and smiled until I cried. It was absolutely wonderful.

My story is now sitting right on 90 pages, and will, by far, destroy my old story record of 101 pages in length. I decided that 80-something pages of tension was well beyond enough, and it was time for the characters to advance in the plot. And I couldn't be happier with the results.

It made me think back to how lucky I am to have such a wonderful person at my side... and while there are ups and downs in everything, the roller coaster ride is always well worth it at the end.

It's so, so worth it. ♥