A New Song?

Okay, so I trust all of the people who read my blog not to steal my idea for a song. I haven't come up with a chorus yet, but here's what I've got so far:

She lives her life,
On the edge of a park bench,
Observing all the people.
The porcelain dolls,
And misery's calls,
To vision,
Viewed black and white.
Most of them,
Can only spell compasion,
With every complaint.
Spilling from lips,
Truth is a glass,
And it's shattered,
All over the place.
Sealed with shame,
A letter is stamped with guilt,
And sent back home.
Fingers could never,
Be more crossed than ever.
And seeing is believing wrong.

Chorus Here.

She can almost,
Hear their smiles,
Perverse.
They fade away.
Like a shining star,
So vain and conceited,
But talent has left for the day.
Vulgar is just,
But profanity leaves,
At nothing else but crude.
A clever remark,
Lead with miscomprehension.
They reel in,
The disdainful mood.
She smiles when they,
Look straight through her,
Like she's nothing else but air.
She floats on the pleasure,
Of learning to listen.
And notices,
What's right is what's scarce.

Chorus Here.

All of the people,
Leade by appeal.
Choked by the fear of rejection.
All of the people,
Faces nasty and leer,
Leave honesty up to perfection.
All of the people,
Walking in sync,
Brainwashed with intent of disception.
All of the people,
Careless and free,
Are stalked by the ghost of redemption.


Tell what you think (:

Gratitude

Everyday my mom comes home with two Mountain Dews for herself, and a Coke for my brother.

What do I get? Nothing.

Everyday my mom comes home in a bad mood, because she's apparently had a "bad day" and takes it out on me.

What do I get? Screamed at.

For what? I do everything for her, and I never get any gratitude.

I never get anything.

I'm scared to ask my mom for something, because the answer is usually no.

Because Jon always comes first.

For what?

Cirque

I just got done watching an extremely sad movie. It's called Cirque. It's about an evil guy named Allen, who's the ringleader of the circus. Everyone in the circus knows Allen's evil and rapes and murders people, but if they try to go and tell someone he'll find them and kill them.
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So Allen finds twins named Jamie and Jackie and their friend Amy in the audience of his show one night, and basically rapes and kidnaps them. One of them, Jamie, really pisses him off and almost kills her, but she pleads for him to spare her life, and so they're forced into the circus.
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So the whole movie is about how badly Allen is treating Jamie. But Jamie and Jackie are identical, so he has Jamie bleach her hair, so one twin has blonde hair and the other has black. And in the movie, Jackie promises Jamie that she'd never let Allen hurt her.
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Well Allen finds Jamie kissing Amy, and figures out that they're dating, and they're lesbians. So he rapes Amy again, and after that he beats the shit out of Jamie and Jackie. And he tells Jamie that she has to chose between her sister or her "best friend".
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She says she can't live without Amy, so he kills her sister instead (she didn't chose it, he just did when she was pleading for him to put the gun down when he was pointing it at Amy's head). So she runs out, and Amy follows, and holds her while she cries. And then Amy says something I was NOT expecting. "She promised you that she wouldn't let him hurt you."
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IT WAS JAKCIE THAT HE KILLED! NOT JAMIE! THEY SWITCHED! THEY SWITCHED!
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I just wanted to run onto the screen and slap Allen SO badly! Jackie bleached her hair, and Jamie dyed her hair black, and Allen mistakenly killed Jackie, thinking it was Jamie! AH! Why?! I liked Jackie!
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This movie made me cry my heart out at the end. And in the parts when Allen figured out Jamie and Amy were dating and raped Amy right in front of Jamie. AH! Oh, and when Allen was training Jamie on the high-wire (teaching her how to do carnival stuff) she fell off and broke her foot, and he made her keep doing it until she got it right.
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AH! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!
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Respect

It's not, "Julie will you please let the dogs out?" It's, "Julie, let the fucking dogs out."

It's not, "Julie will you please do the dishes?" It's more like, "RAWR! Nothing ever gets done around this house because you stupid little fucking morons don't know how to do shit. You just let these dishes sit here and now my house smells!" "Well I did the dishes last night, (blatant lie) so Julie should do them now."

It's not, "Julie, will you please get the dogs clean water/food?" It's, "Julie, get the dogs some god damn clean water/food."

Hello? You talk to me like I'm dirt under your fucking feet. You don't repsect me, and you expect me to give all of my respect to you? And yet you wonder why I don't say "I love you," back to you. You wonder why I never wanna come out of my room. You wonder why I'm always away from the house. You wonder why I never talk when I'm around you guys.

Well, maybe this is why? Did that ever cross your mind?

Maybe the slave has feelings too, maybe she doesn't just want to hear that superficial doesn't-really-mean-it "I love you." at the end of our conversations. Maybe she's tired of being pushed around because she can succeed and you didn't.

I'm tired of constantly being treated like a puppet. I'm tired of trying to put my foot down, and each time getting a fist-full of "You don't respect me!" or "You treat me like shit!" thrown back in my face. I'm tired of it.

One of these days you're going to push me too far, and I'm gonna end up snapping. I'm so close.

Bullies

I've been crying so hard I can barely breathe. This book is my junior high life put into her perspective, with her words. The medicine, the therapists, the physical and verbal abuse from my classmates, shutting off from the world, being a walking zombie of built up rage and sorrow. It all happened to me. I could confide in no one.

Everyone assumes this is a normal part of growing up. Kids will be kids. Teachers, family, therapists, you act like there's nothing you can do about it. We're drama queens, we overreact or over-exaggerate. Because being beat up in the school parking lot or having spit constantly seeping through your hair is, oh- SO normal. The perpetual notes of petrifying threats scribbled in black ink is normal.

And if you're on the receiving end, there's something wrong with you? You go to the therapy for being teased or threatened. There's nothing wrong with them for teasing or beating the shit out of you, it's you that's not normal.

My sweet failure

You are my failure, my sweet deceiving failure, who was never really mine to begin with. My muse, my hopes, an idol not worth idolizing. You only know how to spell the word virtue, and innocence is just a show you put on every night. You remind me of myself because I wanted so badly to relate to you, that I changed myself and my opinions to be who I thought you were.

My failure, my bright shining star, fading away to a white dwarf. A supernova of an event, cascading you into the darkness, pushing others so far away because you don't want them to see the backstage of your innocent show, to know your darkest and most personal secrets. You, my sweet failure, you disgust me.