w/ no plans, bored and tired...such a bad combination

Ambulances always scared me. Every time I'm coming home after a day out, and I see an ambulance going the way I'm going, it freaks me out. The fear was worst when my grandmother was still alive, and every time I saw one, my heart pounded and I freaked out, fearing she wouldn't be there when I came back. Now that she's gone, even though my fear is lighter, it's still there. I don't know why, it just is.

This is my new tattoo! For those of you who care...it's the word "love" written in phonetic signs. It seems as something completely useless and without meaning, but it actually means a lot. I had a rough time a couple of years ago, and this was the wrist that suffered the most through them. So this is to remind me that I should love myself a little more, a sign of how much I love English, and a proof of how much love has changed my life.

my eyes are tired

You scream at me, you punch the table, you yell at mom, you criticize every thing...and you still expect a good night kiss? I'm sick of this fucking roller coaster fulled by whiskey and wine. You think my sighs are caused by sadness?Guess what, they are caused by anger...underneath the table cloth I'm pinching the inside of my hands just to hold back. So many times you asked me why I never told you I cut myself, I'll answer each time that it was because you never gave me a reason to trust. I'm sick of this. I sit on the bathroom floor and cry, and I wonder what the hell happened to what you said last week. Just last Friday you were telling me you supported me no matter what, now you're screaming at me because you disagree with what I've done. You're a hypocrite. You keep telling me things and then you change you're mind and never realize that you're pushing me out the door. I wanna talk back, scream at you but I don't have enough strength...so all I do is sit back and wait for the day it all bursts in your face. You say I've lost a year? I've won a year. The knowledge that I got can't be taken away. And you wonder why the heck did I start there in the first place? It wasn't only because of mom's words...it was also because when I asked for your advice, you screamed at me -apparently you know no other way of getting your point across- that THAT University was my only choice. Now you say I've lost a year and you blame it on me and on my poor judgment and on my hysterical behavior...why don't you stop screaming and go back to your fucking words and remember you pushed me there?
I believe it was in my last entry that I expressed how thankful I am about my great support system...well, now I know I can leave you out. Keep doing that, dad...keep throwing away every chance you can get of being a part of my life. You know when you're fifteen and you argue with your parents and you say "just a couple more years and I'll be gone"? Well, you should know that we're about to reach that point....and I'm not 15 anymore, I can leave. It's not my fault that you ruined your life...why do you have to go and ruin mine?

My head aches, so I'm about to go...I only wanted to put that in writing. Although I strongly doubt that I'll be getting any sleep any time soon.
Fuck you, dad.

Lies will get you through the day, but night will grab you and tear you down.

want to talk

It all went well today...actually, better than I had expected. I talked to my boss at school and she told me that she completely supports my decision, and that she actually thought I was losing time studying elsewhere. I ran into an ex teacher of mine and got time to catch up, and I learned things that brought a smile to my face. At university, it went as it was expected.
I realized I'm lucky...I've got a great support system that everybody should have in their lives. Sadly, a couple of years back I had no idea that I could count on the people I have in my life now, but now I know, and I'm thankful. Thankful to my boyfriend, who listens to me and helps me dry every single tear when things are wrong, to my mom, who -if you get past her mood- is really nice and easy to talk to sometimes, to my dad, to my sister, who listens and never judges and surprises me every time we talk, to my boss, who actually supports me in a way I never thought possible from a boss, and to every friend and every other person who has helped me get through this. I can't believe how blind I was a couple of years ago, but now I see that there are so many lovable people around me. (Still, I will deny practically all this the next time I get depressed, of course.)

Today I'm not tired...that's new. For the first time in a long time, I slept okay. Even though I kept waking up, and throughout the night I kept tossing and turning, I woke up just fine. It's funny because today I could have stayed in bed until 10 am, but I woke up way earlier. Something in me feels different, you know? I feel lighter or calmer. I dreamed of the JVG and I dreamed I was happy. I'm still questioning my decision, wondering if I'm doing the right thing...but I feel a lot stronger and sure about what I'm about to do.
Today is the day when I break the news to my teachers, my boss and my classmates at University. Who the fuck knows how that is going to end?
On another note, I've been singing the whole morning "hallelujah" by Rufus Idon'tknowwhat and now it's stuck in my mind. Oh, and I found out who sang the song that goes "it's magic, you knoooow" hahahah, it's a band called "pilot".
I'm leaving now, on a much happier tone than before. For now, I'm in a great mood so let's hope it keeps that way. Cross your fingers for me (although the hardest part -telling my parents that I wanted out of my University- is over). Bye-bye, people...

I hate it when people demand so much of you, but never ever realize that the right thing to do is to give back.

Once again, life has a funny way of letting you know you did wrong

Mascara and eye-liner to conceal a lie...

pissed off

I hate feeling guilty about being sick

It was midnight. The clock was striking twelve. He sat on the couch and watched the rain pour down as his mind wandered off. He felt numb: his hands were weak and his legs seemed incapable of holding his weight up if he chose to get up. The room smelled funny; a certain smell of wet paint or humidity sickened his stomach. He was trembling. His body begged for a drink, and all he could think of was a cold glass of whiskey on his right hand to make the pain go away. His breath was racing and his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest. The lights outside of his department were all that lit the house. Inside, not a single lamp was on as he sat in the darkness to contemplate his mess. He closed his eyes and clenched his fist, counted to ten and tried to make the nightmare go away. Nothing worked. By now, he longed for that mighty drink that could put him out. He wanted to be out, he needed it. He was too much of a coward to end his own life, but every fiber of his being begged him to do it. All his life, he had tried to do his best, and now he felt defeated. Suddenly, the phone rang: it was her. He gathered the courage and strength to pull himself up, and dragged his feet across the room. His legs quivered and his shoes awkwardly caressed the rug as he walked. He was there, in front of the phone. He let it ring once, twice, until it stopped. He wanted to hear her voice, but he knew that she would talk him out. Instead, he stared at the reflection in the mirror above the phone with disgust. He noticed the bags under his eyes and the spots all over his skin; he saw his cricked nose and his broken lips from the cold, and all he could think of was “what the hell happened to me?” A few minutes went by, and the empty shell that he had become felt useless to him. He staggered through the room to the kitchen and stood in front of the fridge. All the voices inside his head quickly started arguing about his next step. ‘Don’t do it’ one of them said, but he knew that he couldn’t prevent himself. His hand touched the iron handle and it felt like a cold breeze had come into his body. He felt fresh and alive. He opened the door and in there, he gazed at the bottle with a certain look of joy. He took it out, grabbed a drink and poured himself a cup. His lips were gently stroking the glass and, all of the sudden he felt he could breathe again. Still, the demons were there. Inside his mind, it was a battle and, to him, it was unknown who would win. The memories of the bad times and the bad dreams quickly flooded his mind. He was unease. His hands began shaking and his mind began to doubt. Quickly, he threw the glass away and, as it broke into little pieces, he felt a little bit of him broke along with it. His eyes were dewy and his cheeks were red. He felt his throat closing, keeping him from breathing well. The clock on the wall, above the door, was ticking. He felt that every time one of the hands moved, his end was closer. Once again, he closed his eyes, pressing his lids tightly together. Not a minute had gone by. He opened his eyes again and, this time, determinate about what he wanted to do, he strutted out the kitchen and into his room. He was there: in front of his closet, doors open. He reached out his hand and in the top shelf he could feel the suede cover of the box where he kept his father’s old gun, which was given to him the day that he died. He walked backwards to his bed and sat there, with the powdered gun on his left hand and his heart full of fear. He took the safety off and placed the gun to his temple, with one finger on the trigger. Silence filled the room. Suddenly, silence was interrupted by one violent thud as his soulless body fell to the floor. A gentle, cold breeze came rushing inside the room through the bullet’s hole in the window frame, and through there, his pain escaped.

Mid-terms suck! I want to stay in bed today but can't because in just an hour and a half, I'm supposed to sit for a mid-term for which I practically did no studying at all. But well, I did the same for my grammar exam yesterday and did pretty great, soooo....
Anyways, all I wanted to say is that mid-terms suck.