I am completely obsessed with this song right now: Policy of Truth – Depeche Mode
I’m also obsessed with palm trees, iced tea, sugar, books, and Beauty and the Beast. I’m crazy, I’m mad, I’m insane, and judging from this last, I’m a little redundant. I’m a tangled mass of contradictions. I’m not right. And I love it.

Why am I so obsessed with perfection, but so far from it? Why I can’t ever do anything perfectly? I assure you it’s not for lack of trying. Well, sometimes it is. Wouldn’t it suck if the times I didn’t try quite as hard as I could are the only times I could get it right? Heck, for all I know, everything – as soon I decide to do my absolute best – conspires secretly to do all in its power to prevent perfection. That’s a rather disappointing thought. My imaginary balloon just deflated.
My stubbornness got the better of me again. I am again taking a large number of credits – even though this quarter has been hell. (Well, not really hell, but very busy.) This time it’s 20 credits. We’ll see how that works out. Needless to say, the comments of Kevin and my parents regarding my sanity and reason have been relatively ignored.

When I said I wanted adventure, I didn’t mean this kind. I really can’t deal with this. I meant the kind where I go off with a sword (or a machine gun – I’m not picky) and defeat bad guys. I don’t want this kind. This kind is so much harder than the other kind. I don’t mind fearing for my life – I might not even fear for it – and I don’t mind getting banged up and bruised up and cut up, and I don’t mind doubting that I’ll see the morning. I do mind this. Life isn’t supposed to do this!

I miss the way I used to be. I miss the things I used to do.
It’s nice outside. I’m kind of enjoying it. Not very much though, because I’m inside, sick for the third time since school started, and because I’m thinking of upsetting things. I never used to think of things like that. I just ignored them. Was I really that much worse off for not thinking about them? Seems to me I wasn’t. I don’t know. I can’t trust my head right now. Being sick doesn’t do wonders for my brain. Oh well. My brain really must not have been working too well in the first place. Look at the messes I get into.
Please, I need a little magic. I need a little help.
I can’t believe I just said that. Okay. I’m going to unsay it. Ready? Watch.
.pleh elttil a deen I .cigam elttil a deen I ,esaelP
There. It’s been unsaid. But I can’t un-mean it right now.
And yes, Dad, my blinds are still open. Like I said before, it’s nice outside. And I need that kind of magic.

Okay, frankly, I feel horrible right now. I hate this. If you were to ask me what this is, I wouldn’t be able to give you a straight answer. Fortunately, you didn’t ask me, and hopefully I’ll be able to hash this out on my own. First though, I’m going to ignore the subject. I do that in real life; I might as well do it on here.
I really don’t like my math class all that much. Why? It’s easy. But way too time-consuming.
I painted my nails five different colors of sunset and my mom said I was schizophrenic. Not that I mind.
I’m listening to the Top Gun soundtrack right now.
Okay, I’ll stop ignoring the subject, once I tell you that I’m okay. Believe me? Good.
BTW, there is only one lie that I’ve told over and over again. And it’s the only one I’ll probably never stop telling. I bet the world would fall apart if I stopped telling it. Sorry, that was random.

Anyway. Okay, so I’m tired of homework. That’s definitely part of it.
Jordan is also part of it. I don’t understand the way she thinks anymore. Granted, I didn’t always, not very well, but certainly not now. I’m beginning to think I never knew her. For someone who used to be my best friend, that’s a little strange. That part’s definitely bugging me.
Also, I’ve been grouchy all day. Just little things. And the fact that I’ve been grouchy all day makes me grouchy now. Just the thought of it. And instead of fixing it, I’m being grouchier because of it.
Kevin wanted me to go to a concert with him in February. I don’t think I’ll be going. And even though I don’t really care much about concerts, I’m grumpy about that because I feel like being grumpy.
I’m grumpy because I deactivated my Facebook, I’m grumpy because dinner’s over, and I’m grumpy because I don’t feel like listening to music and I am anyway.
I’m grumpy because I haven’t gone to all the places I want to. In fact, I’ve only gone to a few. I wish there was TKD tonight. That always makes me feel better. TKD’s cool that way.
I think I’m grumpy because I’m bored.

I do not feel normal right now. Not a bit. I was talking to one of my friends earlier, and she says that she doesn’t hate anybody. She doesn’t even dislike anybody. I don’t get that at all. She was talking about people she knew whose parents hurt them, and she said that she didn’t hate the parents. She didn’t even dislike them. She felt sorry for them. I don’t understand her at all anymore.
In fact, I don’t understand much of anything. Maybe that’s normal. Maybe no one understands anything.
Gaah, I sound horrible. I don’t really believe that anyway. I’ve just been thinking too much today.

I should be asleep. I was talking to Kevin on the phone and he made me get off and go to sleep. Well, he didn’t make me. It’s hard to do that over the phone. But I didn’t exactly need a lot of persuasion. And now I can’t sleep. I’m finally getting that mole on my arm checked out. Tomorrow. Have I ever mentioned that I HATE hospitals? They give me the creeps like nothing else does. Anyway, I suppose I should get to bed now. I shall proceed to do that.
Yeah, right.
Well, I’d be in bed if you would shut up.
So, what’s this about a mole? You mean cancer? Are you going to get chemo? Are you going to die?
They’ll probably just cut it out.
But what if you die?
You will too.
But I don’t want to die!
Neither do I.
Then DON’T!
Stop. Frankly, you’re scaring me.
What if you go bald?
Hopefully, it will grow back.
What if it doesn’t?
What do you mean, what if it doesn’t? The answer seems pretty obvious.
You know what I mean.
Will you stop? You think I want this? You think I want chemo? Or radiation? Or hair loss? You think I want to die? You think I want to stay in a hospital, the one place I absolutely hate? You really think I need your help to worry? You think any of this will happen?
Maybe.
But maybe not. And I don’t need you messing with my head when I’m nervous enough. It’s past your bedtime. Go to sleep.
Goodnight, Bridget. Even though we don’t always get along, I’ll miss you.
Goodnight, Myself. And stop being so pessimistic.
But –
Goodnight.

Alright, two things have I to say about history.
1. The teacher scares me. Not because he’s creepy, but because his grammar and spelling is worse than mine. Now, mine is really good (no, I’m not bragging – it really is), but he may not know that because his is improper. Fortunately, he doesn’t pick on grammar, which is really obvious when you see all the terrible grammar on the history forum. Why he bugs me about “delving deeply into the matter at hand” when other students aren’t even sure about their sentence structure or which form of a word to use, I don’t know. I guess I sound like a bitch. But really, it seems so stupid to me.
2. It makes me think a lot. I posted something about gladiators awhile back. Now I’m talking about human sacrifice. The Aztecs considered it an honor to be chosen for sacrifice – or so the book says. But really, would something like that, no matter how “honorable”, be something people wished for? What would their families do? Do you realized they ripped out their hearts when they sacrificed them? How could this be an honor? And WHAT made people sacrifice humans in the first place? I actually know the answer to that, but how could they? How could any human do that? How could they kill someone else in that way and call it good? When this happened, did people celebrate or mourn? Were their loved ones proud or bitter? Did people volunteer? Did wives have to beg on their knees to keep their husbands away from it? Did they succeed? Did anyone, once chosen, manage to escape? Did they feel disgraced? Am I asking too many questions?

–
I wish I were fearless. Fearless and courageous are two different things. Courageous is doing something even if you’re scared. Fearless is not being scared in the first place. Courageous? I hope so. Fearless? Not a chance. Being fearless would make everything a lot simpler. It might be unhappier in the end though, because you wouldn’t be scared of making mistakes. Of course, if you do just as many things while being courageous then you’re still screwed. You’re just tougher. As far as being respected, I’d rather be courageous. But I’m not sure I’m always that. Gaah, why am I thinking so much about things that don’t matter??? I’ll never be fearless. I don’t think anyone ever has been. And if they have, they were just stupid. Maybe I wouldn’t rather be fearless. But if I’m not fearless, I better make up for it somehow.
For example, at my black belt test. It’s in 5 days, 12 hours, and 11 minutes. Hey, they count down like that until Christmas, right? Anyway, I’m going to do well. I have to. I’m scared to death, and that’s exactly why I have to do it. Of course, I’m more scared of backing out. Pride and all that. But really, why do I always take the hard way out? Or the hard way in? Because I do both, you know. I think. And the worst part is, I think I’m proud of it. Like I’m proud of my stubbornness, or of my pride. AGGH! If I were Catholic, I’d be saying about a hundred “Hail Mary”s right now, and probably fasting for a week. I think Pride is one of their seven deadly sins. I don’t remember what all of them are: Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Wrath, Envy, and Greed. Let me see, how many am I guilty of? Not gluttony. Not sloth, I don’t think. Not really greed. Wrath? Hell yes. Envy? Even more so than wrath. Lust? How do you even define lust? Eh, I don’t know, but by my definition, no. And I believe I mentioned pride. Not vanity though. I don’t think I’m vain. I don’t know. I don’t know what I am.
Rather happy right now, despite the potential Hail Mary’s I would get should I become Catholic (which I won’t).
I should go finish up my math. Today is such a light week for homework. It’s so cool. I love it.
All the same, my black belt test is making me nervous. Everyone says I’ll do well. Even the teacher says he’s not worried about me. But still, I’m not sure. I’m not ready to get my black belt, I’m not ready to go to college, I’m not ready for anything. What am I doing where I am? Is anybody ever ready for this kind of thing? Or is it just me?
I like Hamlet. The movie, anyway. The one with Mel Gibson. (He’s a good actor) I haven’t read the book yet. I should. When I have time. Ha, like I don’t have time now. But I don’t have the book right now.
Saturday at the black belt workout, my assistant teacher said he felt sorry for the first college guy who tried to make a move on me, or something like that. That was funny. He’s an awesome guy. I’m glad he’ll be at my test.
Actually, if you think about it, I have “ideal conditions” for my test. It’s in my own do-jang. (That’s rare.) My best friend is going to be there, my family is going to be there, my teachers are both going to be there, and I might be ready. Can I reasonably ask for anything more? I don’t think so. Although if I had a little more time that would be nice.
Last night, I dreamed about a totally badass thunderstorm, and there were like four lightning streaks that hit all at once right next to my window, and I sat down on the floor and asked myself if I was alive. I wasn’t sure. You could see the wind blowing the clouds into all these ominous shapes, like mammatus (ever seen mammatus? It’s awesome.) Anyway, I wish I could see a storm like that, even though it was kind of scary. I wish that could be called a kind of fearless.
I really wish I could get into Middle-earth right now. Think about it. It would be so cool. I’d like to be a human, like I am now. Humans were the bravest, even if they weren’t the smartest. You know, I think every person thinks the type of person they are is the best kind to be. I think maybe they’re all a little proud of themselves, in a way. That might seem insensitive to say, especially to a person who hates themselves. But they wouldn’t keep hating themselves if they didn’t think it was the best thing to do. Otherwise they would change it, wouldn’t they? Really, in the end, everyone does what they think is best, even if it’s only best for themselves.
I hope I’m not doing only that. I hope I’m a good person. I hope I’m not screwing everything up. I hope for too many things.
Anyway, back to my other thought about Middle-earth. That last thought was getting to be depressing. I’d like to live like Aragorn. I’d like to die like Boromir. I don’t want to die soon, mind you. But if I have to die, I want to die bravely. He died braver than anyone else. I want to die fighting. It’s an odd thing I’ve got. I can’t help it.
I’m not quite satisfied with this. I need something different. I need adventure on an epic scale. I suppose you could call this madness, of a sort. Mad for adventure. Mad for love. Mad for comfort, and at the same time, mad for change, craziness, war. Mad for wildness. Just mad, maybe. I feel like I could take down a whole army right now.
Writing stories about other people isn’t good enough. I need to live a story. If I could write a story of my life the way I wish it was, I would already be fighting, fearless, saving the world.
There’s one problem. Being in love and wanting whatever it is that I want – if you can find a name for what I want, I need it – don’t go together. And I am one, and I want the other. And I can’t have both, because nothing like that ever lasts. There’s no middle ground, and I wouldn’t want it if I could have it. Everything about me is impossible. I need to do one impossible thing. Just one. I need both of those. If I do one impossible thing, can’t I do another? The need for two things at once is driving me crazy. I can’t straighten myself out. Tell me I’m not truly crazy. Tell me I’m sane in some way.
I’m not unhappy. I’m somewhere between a war yell and a laugh. Where’s the middle ground in that?
If I were to write a story of my life the way I wish it were, I would have two side-by-side stories. One for adventure, and one for love. And then I would have to choose one. And I don’t know if I could.
No. That’s not true. I could choose. I know which one I would choose, without a doubt. Even if the story didn’t end well. And I’d be scared to death, just like I am now. But I wouldn’t feel sorry I’d made the choice, no matter what happened. As a matter of fact, I’m not sorry about the choice I’ve made now.
The writing of the stories will be interesting.

So weird, the moon is full tonight and there’s a ton of little clouds. It looks like iridescent popcorn. It’s Friday night, and I’m cleaning house because all my homework is done until Monday – yes! I feel pretty good. I don’t know why. Who ever does? I’ve been thinking too much though – it doesn’t suit me. I wonder what the world would be like if I’d never existed. Would it be that much different? I was thinking about this because I heard something about It’s A Wonderful Life. Classic movie. I watch it every year when it comes on as a Christmas special. I love Christmas specials.
Huh, that’s weird. My dad just told me a weird fact – statistically, smart kids end up drinking more as adults than their “less intelligent peers”. I wonder if I’m smart. I think I am a little bit. Other people think I am, but I’m not quite so sure. I’m not dumb though. I know that much. I’ve been in school for a month now. Same opinion as when I started.
I feel so beat up. TKD has been exhausting lately. I’m going tomorrow too, for a short workout. I still love it though. I wonder it is that some people can hate it. I really don’t understand.
My siblings are watching Cheaper By The Dozen, and the song “I’m just a kid” is playing. I don’t know why, but I kind of like that song. Just the tune, I guess. But those bullies in there – I would have let them have it. I’ll be honest, sometimes I just itch for a fight. I want to take someone down. Just the excitement, I guess. I won’t do it though. Not without a good reason. I’m not going to say I wish someone would give me a good reason though, because they might give me too good of a reason.
I wish I lived in another world sometimes. Middle-earth would suit me just fine. I would carry a sword and hunt orcs and Uruk-hai.
I had the oddest dream last night. It was about fractions. 142/93 + something else that I can’t remember – 142/93. Now, in general, that would equal the number in the middle. But in my dream it didn’t. And everything in the world was wrapped around that fraction. I was going over to Kevin’s house? It involved that fraction set. I was doing dishes? Fractions again. All the great secrets of the universe were contained in that little set of fractions. It was weird.
Now, I have to finish cleaning the house.