Dear Diary, I Pour My Heart...

Ive got parents who love me, a roof overtop of my head, I can walk, I can talk, I can see and I can pee on my own. Im able to hear music of all kinds, read book after book, and watch the sun set and rise and on occaision, Ive been blessed with feeling the sand under my toes. So why is it that I'm so unhappy sometimes. Pessimistic. My middle name...

I think I live through that one little saying, "Hope for the best, expect the worse." Sometimes I just lose sense of the hoping part and automatically expect the worse.

There's been times that Ive been ready to give up on friendship, and then bam, something hit my heart and sent me back into happiness.

You always hear that you should follow your heart. Well what happens when you dont know how to listen to it. There's the logical decision, hell, who am I fooling? Ive never had the smarts, especially when it came to practical sense.

I dont let myself fall. That way I wont be stung by rejection.

Why do I hate change so much? Im all for comfort; in change, you may not get to keep that comfort. And it sucks.

Piano music makes me cry. That kind of cry that starts in the pit of your soul, shakes your heart and leaves salt patterns on your cheeks.

I hate that in finding youself, sometimes you deny the things you love just to fit in, thank god those middle school days are over!

I hate it when you wave at someone and they don't wave back-wave for the hell of it!

I hate that you decide to be curteous and let another car in front of you, and they dont wave in appreciation, like they expect it or something!

I hate being in a hurry to find myself on a back curvy road behind someone chatting away on their cellphone. If you cant drive and talk at the same time, you shouldnt.

I hate that I cant stay mad at someone for more than a few minutes for fear of something bad happening and that being my last thought.

I hate that sometimes I say I'm okay when I'm not.

I hate that sometimes I smile when I really want to cry.

Occaisonally I'll cry in the dark movie theater, its a way for me to be around everyone and yet avoid the questions.

I hate that I want to be loved more than anything in the world.

I hate that you hate my opinions. I hate even more the fact that I cant tell you how I feel because I cant find the words. Ive really got to touch up my vocabulary!

I hate that I worked all summer and feel guilty everytime I buy even the littliest thing.

A picture frame breaks, she finds your letter and you get a text message telling you how great of a friend you are. And you smile the biggest smile you've smiled in a long, long time.

Why in the world can the smallest compliment mean so much to me? This I dont hate. <3

Today's Motto

.....say how you feel before its too late.

those that matter will find a way to deal with it.

its better to regret what you say than what you dont say. or is it?

Dilly-Dally

Dill pickles hold a certain place in my heart. That tangy, vinegary ,goodness that makes your lips smack together in a look of discomfort. Really it’s a false pretense, for the taste is quite lovely. Id advise you to shake the pickle against the glass jar because too much juice goes down the wrong pipe and makes you cough out loud. I hate that! A friend and I used to wrap the big daddy dills in napkins and sit on the couch all summer long watching Nickelodeon!

Now some people don’t like dill pickles, they only want the sweet ones. That’s when I get all bent out of shape. Don’t you dare put a sweet pickle on my sandwich, the taste is so nasty, Id have to throw the sandwich away. A friend had those cutesy little baby pickle packs. In all excitement, I didn’t bother to look at the wrapper, I shoved it in my mouth. The look was grotesque! I spit that sucker right out! Apparantly they don’t make baby dill packs! I mean, what the hell?

.......I gotta pickle, I gotta pickle, I gotta pickle hey hey hey hey!

And none of that Clausen crap either! Its not pickle unless it’s a Mt. Olive pickle!