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It is a little after 10am.. on a Wednesday morning. Yes, I am still at home. Because if you were paying attention, I said that school doesnt start today until 11:25am. And I woke up at 8:30.. and didn't really get up until a little after 9. You know.. my bed was too warm and comfy to get out of.

I was reading through my diaries.. and I read one line "Well, act II is shortly ending, so I suggest you leave promptly. Because once an act is over, its the real thing." It was the entry when the title was "Act II" which began with "This is another curtain lifted. *lifted* (popcorn, anyone?) Welcome to Act II of my life." I was speaking of my life as if it was one of those Acts. I don't even remember that I had written that line. I only saw that I wrote that when someone commented on it, saying that it's a very good line. I was like.. umm, I wrote that? It's really amazing what I can write (and how much it doesnt sound like me) when I dont think when I write.

Try it. Its fun how my mind plays with these words.. and much sense it makes after its written, even if it sounds ridiculous the first time.

Anyway. Why am I here anyway? I originally wanted to get up because I havent done any schoolwork at all. (Its a bad habit that I never got out of) But I'm like, whatever. It doesnt matter right? Well, watch me cry when I get my horrible grades and such. I really do deserve everything I get. If I die, I'd deserve that too.

Oh, yes, Shamala wrote in her journal so you must all visit her because shes one of my besterest friends. I get all my writing inspirations from her because really, she's amazing at writing. What's scary though is that she's almost exactly like me. And I see my own faults through her. I dont understand how two people can be more alike.. she even has the same exact music taste as me! (gasp) Usually people would like only alternative.. or pop.. or country, etc. But her (like me) likes a bit of pop/rock (Savage Garden), country (Faith Hill!!), and mostly alternative (Kittie, Incubus..). She once said to me that how come whenever she listens to my CD's, she wants them? Well. Maybe a lot of people are like us.

I wrote that prose (which was supposed to be a song, but its not really) called, "Telling her" and she thought it could be talking about her. I was like.. "It was talking about me!" So its strange. But here's a sample of that piece of writing.

"Patience, they tell her, because she cannot wait, wait for the moment to rest in her hands. She wants to capture the world, unwrap it upon her palms, and decide the fate.

And she sleeps at night, wondering if she can fly, saying she understands her broken wings, and she never fails to land properly, and she wakes, anticipating the time those lost moments.

Quiet, they tell her, because she wants to scream, the anger she kept for so long, and the bruised tears she had learned to let go. Like the silence that had been forgotten, she wants to be the spirit, haunting the past.

Where broken perfection lies, she will follow the thin edge, because she doesn't believe she will fall. Where hunger rests, she will starve, because she doesn't believe she will die. She will go far, until she realizes that it never ends."

Its because I'm a damn perfectionist.. ugh, I hate it, picking problems out of everything. Seriously.. I could make a problem out of everything. Like right now, my fingers are all sticky from eating an apple. And the room is so horribly messy. And I havent done anything since yesterday afterschool even though I had so much time. I could go on.

But I should just stop because it isnt helping. Well. One hour until school starts. Really, exactly an hour. I really should be doing something except wasting my time away here. At least I only have 3 classes today.

Well. See you at around 3:00pm when I get home from school again. Not that Im going to write so soon.. but well, I'll be here I promise :)

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