Once A Whore, You're Nothing More, I'm Sorry, That'll Never Change...

So, yeah, at the urging of my friend, [J], I've decided to post something I've already ranted about, but he thinks I should blog it. Whatever.

Today was an alright day. It could've been way better, but it could've been worse, too.

To sum up: I was called fat and a bitch by my friend [C] today, which I really don't care about. He calls me a bitch everyday, and only when we're smacking each other in the arms. I call him a bitch, too. It's like friends calling friends names to express their lurve, or whatever.

However, this girl, [MR], that I'm pretty much only tolerating, started talking about my sex life while we were supposed to be doing an exercise for our band teacher. Then I was trying to explain part of the exercise to her, and she said I didn't "understand" what was going on, which is her just saying I'm an idiot or something and that I don't know what I'm doing. I took this as an insult, and was damn near close to calling her an ignorant slut, because I KNEW what I was told to do.

Then, instead of them doing the exercise, she'd rather say that I was screwing Elias, and "[Strike Up The Band!], just because [A] slept with her boyfriend doesn't mean that you need to!" To which I gave her look with the meaning of "You are the worst friend ever, you shouldn't be gossiping, pay attention to this exercise, you stupid bitch."

And then [C] reacted with shock and started asking if I really was doing Elias, to which I said no, and then decided we should do the exercise, which they SUCKED at.

Then we were standing around, messing around and playing, and she said she'd kill me and that [C] won't protect me, because he hates me. Then [C] and I started smacking each other, and he said, "Hit the pudge!" and hit me lightly in the stomach, which was kind of hurtful, but right now, I don't care that he called me fat, because I know I am.

What pissed me off was that [MR] said, "Oh, [C], you just killed Elias's baby!" She pat me on the back, and I turned and gave her another look, which held the meaning of "Oh, you fucking whore, you did NOT just imply that I was knocked up, you better step away from me before I throw open this door behind me into your fucking face."

After that, I just said, "I need to leave. Bye." and I left. Our teacher was asking what happened, because she only saw me give [MR] the look and then say that I needed to leave.

Then, as I was leaving, I saw a bike, and was considering stealing it to get home, since I had to walk, and said, "Oh, hey, a bike." and [C] said, "Bye, ADD child!" to which I replied, "Bye, bitch!"

So, any question asked about my love life by [MR] will be responded to with "Why do you want to know? Is yours so boring that you have to know ALL ABOUT MINE? Fuck off, leave me alone, and don't come near me EVER AGAIN, unless it's something marching band related."

In all actuality, Elias and I broke it off today. I'm not upset, really, since he's like my best friend, and we really didn't do much together, anyways. It was more like being friends than anything else. Whatever.

So, I told my friend Miss Dusk and my other friend, [J] about it, and [J] told me to blog about it. I was like, "Oh, yeah, I'll totally post my whole life on a blog, and then my internet friends can come and be all 'Oh, poor [Strike Up The Band!], this chick she hates is such a bitch, why doesn't she just tell her to go and screw an old homeless man for money that she won't even get, and why is someone she's friends with calling her mean things, he's such an ass sometimes, omg!'"

He said I should, so here I am, and thanks for the 'motivation', [J]. You are SUCH an inspiration, yo. Riiiiight. He's cool and all, but he's not my inspiration for a lot, unless it's for a nice insult that I can call somebody with his proper motivation. Whatever. He knows he's my friend, so if I ever talk crap about him here, he'll be notified first. Haha.

So, yeah, today was okay. Not the best, not the worst.

Listening to: Paramore, for which the title of this post is from.

What Am I Supposed To Say?

I found out your news today. I hope that [N]'s telling me doesn't upset you.

I wish I could say something to take away your pain. I wish I could say something that would make the world seem better, or something nice. I wish some beautiful words would come flowing out of my mouth and into your ears to help you feel not so alone.

After what has happened, nothing I say can really help heal your pain. Nothing I can say will bring them back and take away the hurt.

All I can do is just tell you that I’m sorry for your loss, I hope you’re okay soon, and that I love you so much. Then I can offer a warm hug of sympathy from a person who has been close to where you are. All my shirts are nice and soft and warm, with plenty of cloth to cry into, should you need to.

All I can do is be there for you and hope that, sooner or later, you’ll be okay again, and then everything will be right with the world.

I'm so sorry, love. There are no good words to describe the pain I can only imagine that you're feeling. If you need anything, I'll be here for you, through thick and thin.
__________________________
Double post today. Along with the above to my dear friend, [T], I have some words to share with whomever is reading.

Lately, a dear friend of mine has been talking about killing himself on his birthday. His birthday is tomorrow. I haven't told anyone... yet.

If he doesn't change his mind by 8:00 my time, I will call 1-800-SUICIDE, and ask for guidance. I feel stupid for not telling anybody or calling anybody sooner.

He says that he'll be taking this risk. If he wants to take this risk, I'll take one, too, only first. Hopefully, my risk with prevent his.

Wish me luck. I don't need anything other than that right now, other than strength.

Isn't it so fortunate that I have the Suicide Hopeline programmed into my phone? (The reason why will be told in a future post, possibly.)

Just 'Cause You Feel It Doesn't Mean It's There

Alas, my mental state has confused many, including myself. I'm not sure if I'm mentally ill, or just... I don't know.

I'm taking a sabbatical from a website I'm heavily active in because of personal trouble... I'll be posting here while I'm gone so those at the site will be assured that I'm still alive, despite the fact that it's not my whole spiel that is the problem.

So... I heard a song by Radiohead recently that I really liked, and then I found out the album it's on, and so I'm going to buy it tomorrow. Great song, kind of sad, but really amazingly good. Yay.

Anyways... I am mentally exhausted, and I'm going to try and take control of my life instead of standing by and observing everything else. I'm tired of it.

I'm sick and tired of it. So I'm going to work on it, and, hopefully, I'll actually succeed in my plight. You'll know if I fail by the wailing and the sudden activeness on here of depressing musicality and many pictures of sadness accompanied by the cynical text about how everything sucks.

And so I'm off, to write... and I'll probably text a friend of mine later and talk to him. Whatever.

Have fun while I'm gone, people from site!

Loves, and Santi!

(Lyrical title from: There There by Radiohead.)

Part One of My Confessions

I feel like Usher when I say that title...

I know that I said that I was making postcards for PostSecret, but... I dunno. I probably will, so be patient.

But this is one confession from me: I used to "love" someone... who didn't love me. At all. I wasted about ten months and thousands of heartaches and tears on him, and he never even liked me. I thought I loved him... it hurt like love did when he burned my soul at the stake... and now I'm over him.

So, that's why I focus my affections on stars of music, like Taking Back Sunday's Matt and Adam, or Fall Out Boy's Pete and Patrick. Because I've never met them, I can invent them to be who I want them to be. They can't be ruined in my mind until I meet them. To me, they are perfect. To me, they are everything I want them to be.

So, whatever. I find that loving celebrities that are who I want them to be is easier than loving someone I know and getting hurt again.

I'll post my postcards in a few days... I just need to make them, scan them, mail them, and then post their images.

Later.

Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough

I like mirrors. I always have. Not to look at myself in, but... I dunno. I like the thought that you could distort images using glass that showed yourself. I'm not making sense, I know, but... I dunno.

I like mirrors, though. They intrigue me. Distorted images, etc. But, question. Can a mirror distort your soul? I'm always going to be looking for a mirror that won't do that to me. My soul is probably very beautiful, and my mirrors never seem to capture that beauty. At least, not to me. Every mirror I've ever owned has always highlighted my flaws, my weaknesses, not my strengths. But those faults have always been shallow, never deep enough in me to not show through.

But, honey, these mirrors aren't big enough to show the person I want everyone to see. They aren't big enough to show my true beauty.

I've got two secrets that I'm going to make for PostSecret. I'll send them off next week, maybe.

I'm just so... I dunno. I was leaving M-town today for Mo-town, and I was just REALLY uncomfortable. I don't get this bad this often, but... I was just sitting there, trying to listen to some music that I'm familiar with, and... it wasn't working. I leaned back my chair and I cried silently to myself. My tears didn't come out, thank goodness, but I felt terrible.

I got to see one of my best friends EVER today. I'll probably make a post all about him, since he's more family to me now that just my friend.

Nothing is really going on now. I'm just waiting to find some pictures that will help me express myself to Frank Warren.

Until later, then.

Well, This Is An Interesting Turn Of Events

Holy crap. Holy holy holy crap.

Can't talk a lot right now about why I'm all "EEEK!", but, seriously, if you knew... you'd be that way, too.

In other news, I am LEAVING THIS TOWN BEHIND... by Friday... I'll prolly get a counter online and set it up somewhere where I can be all "YAY!" or whatever.

I kind of don't want to leave (kind of used loosely), since, you know, I'm not a recluse, so I made friends... but they know my online stuff, so it's chill. Plus, I can still see them at band events, etc.

And some may even go to the same college as me...

Whatever, I'm gonna go... get that counter... Laters

"Best Friends, Ex Friends 'Til The End...

...Better off as lovers, and not the other way around."

It's been a few days, mostly because I like to pretend that I have a life when, really, I'm on blogger, stalking my favorite ones.

Here's something you should know before I tell you my piece of news: I have two best friends. "Best friends" meaning "Ay dios mio, I love you so much, I would die for you if I had to, and I KNOW you would die for me, too, because we think on the same brainwaves". Two people not in my family (because I have a lot of family that I would die for) that I would WILLINGLY put my life on the line for, should it become necessary.

Their names are Ariel and Elias. Ariel and I have been friends for four years (I feel like that's a long damn time). I first met her in seventh grade, during fourth period. Science. It was the second day of school, and she was (kind of) new. (I say kind of, because she had lived in M-town until third grade, then moved to Sin City.) We had to partner up. All my other friends already had. She sat in front of me. I tapped on her shoulder and asked if she wanted to be my partner. She said yes, so we were.

Later, we both found out that our schedules were pretty much the same, save for two subjects. Ironically, I have math when she had social studies, and then I went to ss, and she went to math.

Ariel has been my best friend since the end of freshman year, probably before that. I love her to pieces. We have been through tons: boyfriends, stupid (ex-)boyfriends, non-existent boyfriends, those non-existent boyfriends "dying" (long story for another time). There's more, but I can't be bothered to remember it all just for the sake of you (possibly non-reading) people.

My other best friend is a person I've only known for about one and a half years. I met him (surprise, surprise) through Ariel. He was in her math class, so he talked to her when she and I were getting lunch. Soon, he and I started hanging around each other more. Just after that, we were basically inseperable, when we had classes. We hung out so much that my math teacher said (not asked, mind you) we were dating. Uh, no. Also, this girl that thought she loved him and stalked him for a time growled at Ariel (after Ariel touched his shoulder) and threw me into a wall (I wish I could say it was an accident.) His name is Elias.

After that little "wall" incident, he and I decided to just let people think we were dating, if only to make that chick go away (she scared the crap out of him).

I love Elias to pieces. He's been texting me tons over the past two days. Thank goodness for school, else I'd have to erase half an inbox worth of messages just to talk to him.

I can't remember what the point was to this post, but it was fun to talk about them.

By the way, those two up ^there ^ are my best friends EVER. I also have friends that I can see (FTICS, for future reference), and awesome friends that live all over (AFTLAO, for future reference) that come from the interweb. Woot. I suppose that explains the fact that I have a blog IN FINNISH on my "Blogs That Rock" list. She's my Finnish buddy, Tiina. Hi, Tiina!

Maybe I'll post more about my other friends later... like, Sunday, since I'm going to pretend that I actually HAVE a life outside the interweb and my phone. Here's to hoping.

Listening to: A mixed list consisting of Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and The Blood Brothers. Woot.

Music Sets My Soul Free

"Music equals life." That one statement has always been true for me. Throughout my life, a grand majority of it has always been set to music, whether it be playing in the background, or playing in my mind when I recall it later. Surprisingly enough, one of the people I think about most – especially around these days, and a few days in September, devotedly – seems, at least to me, to have her entire life set to music. Her funeral, three years ago, was just the same: musical.

The performance was done by a lot of people: the Miami High School band, as well as some of Miami’s junior high, quite a lot of her friends from high school that had already graduated, and by herself.

Her casket was a beautiful blue, with glitter making it shine. The corners had silver treble clefs embossed onto them, a beautiful sentiment to her passion.

It was at the church that the music first started playing; psalms laced with sobs, speakers always saying how much she enjoyed music. The music was playing again at the cemetery. The people fused as one band, one sound, and played a song that even now I cannot recall.

March 6, 2004. It was heartbreaking. The words, "She was so young!" and "I miss her so much!" were said over and over again, among the words of comfort offered by the friends she held closest to herself. A charming 'eulogy' - for there is no other word to describe it - was written during the ceremony at the church, when the words being said held no comfort for a close friend of hers, and mine.

He spoke of her entering the Gates of Heaven, and perhaps playing her music on a cloud for all to enjoy. He spoke words that I cannot remember now, but I know they held a deep meaning for me, in my heart. I hope to read that passage of strength he managed to compose again someday.

A year later, the people met again, only on February 28, 2005. Miami, Globe, and EAC band members all met with each other at the church to talk and become nostalgic of all the great times they had with her.

Hours - moments to me now - later, they all met again at the cemetery, and we played once more. I remember a bird flying overhead, a crow. It made me panic, and feel quite uneasy. It left soon after, though, thankfully.

The music, as far as I recall, was classical, or as classical as it could get. It was advanced, even for me, and I had to rely on a friend to help me through it. She helped me through it.

I was morose at the time, as we all were, since we had lost a friend only - what seemed like - yesterday. Of course, I'm sure we were supposed to. She was dear to us, and continues to be so. I'm quite positive that I would not be where I am now, were it not for her.

I don't remember feeling like this - despondent, distracted, cheerful - at any other point in my life. A mixture of emotions raced through me as I felt the music in my soul, though it was not the music I was playing at the time.

The music I felt was music she had played when she was still in high school. Halftime shows, solo and ensemble, concert pieces. One song stuck out most in my mind: With Or Without You, by U2.

She had played this on the bells her senior year, for competition. I remember this best, because I remember standing there when she was arguing with the band director about the beginning, and how she didn't like it. She wanted to change it.

She was quite the stubborn person, and he soon relented. It sounded beautiful when it all came together.

Another song fluttered through my mind, as the dynamics got softer: Angel, by Aerosmith. She played this in her junior year, another bell piece, if I remember correctly. Our friend Shari was a flag girl, and had the flag "solo" for that, when it came time to play it. It was amazing. I couldn't believe, from my position in the stands, that so much emotion could be put into such a short song.

The conductor cut us of. The lyrics to 40, by U2, flashed quickly in my mind. "I waited patiently for the Lord. He inclined and heard my cry. He brought me up out of the pit, out of the miry clay. I will sing, sing a new song. I will sing, sing a new song." What fitting words for such a moment. How ironic, yet how appropriate.

Memories of songs that were played and sung and felt help me to remember. Don't Stop Believing, Journey. Mr. Crowley, Crazy Train, Ozzy. Tons of U2 and tons of images are burned in my mind.

The music tattoo she was going to get. The music she left behind. Her bass clarinet with her picture in it, left unplayed, and untouched, until recently. Her band uniform, her utter joy for each victory, and the look of dismay, yet hope for another win, just after a loss. Her hope inspired us.

I have a lot of memories from sixth grade. She was my mentor when I was in that grade. I was a sixth grader, and she was a junior. She taught me well, and never let me give up when a note seemed out of reach. She could play anything.

This is her anniversary. Three years ago, early in the morning... what was she thinking about? Surely her head was filled with music, as it often was. U2, Journey, Mozart, Stevie Wonder, Bach, Aerosmith, and the power of John Williams. She loved music with a passion.

Now, I carry on that passion as much as I can. I'm making a mix using other people's words to convey my feeling. All the songs that remind me of her, or I think she would like. Songs on the list bring about memories from times when we played music together. Harsh, jarring sounds of two clarinets: one in tune, the other not. Marching off the field, singing. Arguments, broken reeds, band camp, making sure I make her proud of me each time I march.

This is my mix for you, Meghan L. Hammer. It's like I wrote every note with my own fingers.