Vanished

Worthless

I didn't think human contact was so crucial. I just want to disappear and wait the whole thing out. I wish I didn't have to experience any of this. I can't stand being rejected anymore. I'm so weak. I can't help but think that the person I am now is who I've been all along. I've just been yanked from the environment in which I felt more or less comfortable and dumped where I'm neither comfortable nor accepted. I'm like a turtle without its shell. I want to scream to them -- to tell them -- that what they see isn't who I am but what this has made me but I feel completely defenseless against their pity. I have nothing -- no one -- to hide behind. I have nothing to fall back on. I'm just nothing. No one.

Sequence©

Nothing

Where's reality? How am I supposed to know who I really am if all I have is my own perspective? You just can't trust people. But what am I to do if I myself am a person?

All this talk of the future is really getting to me. I've managed to convince myself and the people around me that I'm something more than average. But what if I am just that? Average.

Thoughts

I've been thinking a bit about life lately. What it is and Why people are always unhappy (the Truth is -- I don't know. What makes people happy? What makes me happy? I have no clue. I just know it isn't Colorado).

Shit, this is hard. Life is so big and scary. I love it because it's so mysterious but I hate because I don't know what it is and I can't plan it. And I want to know where God is and why He isn't helping us deal with all of this Life. I can see how so many people could just spend their lives thinking about it. There's so freaking much! You might think you've got the general picture but there are all of these knooks and crannies. Eventually, most people just choose a certain one and spend the rest of their time in there.

It hard to tell when people are really miserable or are just making themselves so. It's easy to assume they're doing it to themselves. You have to open their mouths and climb inside their brains to figure them out. People just don't get each other. People just don't get themselves, either. None of us can accurately describe ourselves, we all see ourselves one way but really are another way. It's as if our real selves are these omnipotent observers of us -- we can't see ourselves but our selves can see us. It's so confusing. So what does it mean to "be yourself"? People keep telling me to "be myself" and I don't know what that "self" is. Who am I? The closest to an answer that I've gotten so far is that my "self" is the person I am when I don't think about me. It's only logical that you'll be the True You when you don't think about it.

Now I'm Going to Complain

I thought this was going to get better and it isn't. I'm still very lonely and I've managed to scare away all of the people who tried to be nice to me. All of you say I should just be outgoing and nice but you have no idea how hard it is for me to put myself out there like that. I physically get sick from the mere thought of it. I try my hardest to be nice to the people who do talk to me but I still get the impression they don't really like me. I'm just a pity case to them all - the girl with no friends. I have no idea what to do. I'm so sad at this school, I just don't know what to say to people. There's so many of them. I'm beginning to hate them all for just being there. I'm beginning to hate myself for saying the things I say and doing the things I do. I miss my friends, I want them to be here and I know they can't be here. I'm all alone in this miserable state. I'm so clueless when it comes to people my age. I feel like such an outcast among them.

Yes, Snow in September.

I think that unless you can see the Rockies from your house, Colorado is basically the most pointless place you can live. Without the mountains, Colorado is just- well- Nebraska.

So, I've decided I'm not going to be negative about this. Much easier on the nerves. I just have to buckle down focus on school. Maybe get a job or something. I need to find stuff to do.

My dad and I went up to the mountains yesterday. It was pretty great. It snowed. Actually it was amazing. It was still summer in Boulder and on the drive up it was fall. When we got there it was winter. I realized just how much I hate summer. I missed the smell of winter. That clean, cold smell. I missed how even your chin freezes. How snowflakes get caught in your eyelashes and when you blink, your eyes get cold. I missed the pure, fresh taste of snow. I was so happy.

My Apologies

So, I know I came off as a bit snotty in yesterday's post, but you have to understand, I really am quite miserable here. This past week, I've dealt with my share of humiliation and misfortune. In order to make myself feel better about it, I choose to look at it all in a condescending sort of way. A bit like a protective shield.

I'm just a bit negative about this entire situation for the time being. I can't see how this all can be fair, for this whole moving thing to turn out so badly. But then again; life ain't fair, baby.

I'm hoping things will start to look up for me. I mean, they're bound to, aren't they? It just can't keep on going like this, can it? I'm not really so horrible a person that I can't make friends. I've managed to make them in the past, and the ones I've made have proven to be some of the most delightful, loyal, and loving people I know. It really can not be possible for there to not be some people who wouldn't mind being my friends in this city.

Even My Computer Hates Colorado

I've spent the last two hours trying to hack into my own site.

So I've been here almost three weeks and I'm still not warming up to the place. It's a pretty depressing state, to tell the truth. Public school has proven to be worse than I thought, and my expectations weren't very high.

People in this city try too hard. There's so much pressure to be cool, I thought only teenagers acted like this. Their liberalism is constituted of them continuously complaining about the government and smoking pot like it's the 1960s.

My first week at Fairview High School has been pure, untainted hell. I'm basically a loner, and I hate it. I miss my dear private school. My teachers assure me that the classes I am taking are going to be difficult, but that's not what the textbooks say. I'm in Pre-IB Geometry Honors and we're learning what absolute values are, it's absolutely ridiculous.

Picture

Rain

You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took.

Missing

Exams are over. School's over. One down, three (?) to go.

Under regular circumstances, it's hard to compare your feelings for one person to your feelings for another. It all becomes clear when you say goodbye. It was rather surprising to me at how hard it was for me to let go of people I wasn't even aware I cared for and vice versa.

And then there were my friends. Those people I care for above all the rest. I didn't realize just how hard it would be for me to let go of them. To come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't see them every day. I almost took some of them for granted sometimes. I love them so much, and I only realized this after I said goodbye. I want to say to them now that I already miss them so much and I'm sorry for anything I ever did to hurt them or upset them.

I love you.

Colorado is beige.

Untitled

“We are more often frightened than hurt; our troubles spring more often from fancy than reality.”
-Seneca

Friends?

A lot of people don't seem to understand what a friend is. I find that when I'm in a good mood, when I'm most fun to be around, people want to hang out with me and talk to me. But as soon as something goes wrong, as soon as I'm upset and things don't go right, it's as if these same people -- these people who call themselves my friends-- back off. I mean, they're there when you need them, but only when it's convenient for them. A friend isn't just someone you walk away from when they become an inconvenience to you. That's what I most don't understand about this culture. Or course, I grew up in this country, but my family and friends have actually had the most influence on me. I didn't grow up holding the same values as the people at my school. To them it's as if anyone you talk to on a regular basis is a friend. I don't see how that even works. With a relationship as serious as a friendship there should be a certain level of intimacy. A friend is a ally, not just the person you trust with your secrets-- but with your life. When a friend hurts, you feel that hurt. You don't just comfort, you join her in her pain. A friendship is sincere. There's nothing fake about it, it's raw feeling and emotion. Raw people. There are no manners, no kindness-- unless it's genuine. This is what I don't understand.

I Cry. Why Not? It's Free.

I'm broken.

Sunshine

Spring

My mother and I are beginning to fix up the house in preparation of putting it on the market in May. Our plans for moving have moved from June to July and I'm beginning to doubt I can participate in the exchange program next Spring as I had planned because of the move and it's quite possible we won't be completely settled down by then. I may end up not participating in an exchange program at all and just travel for a year before college instead. I still do plan on finishing high school early and am currently working on bringing all of my grades up to solid As. Because of the move, there is a chance of the family not visiting Russia in August as planned but my mother did mention just sending me off there this summer for a month.

Yesterday, after a particularly nasty row with my mother (one which including me throwing a glass bottle of apple juice out the car window), I realized that my life is way too nice. Apart from the occasional upset, I don't especially have any troubles to be dealt with. I don't ask for much -- I feel guilty when I do-- but what I do ask for, I usually get. I haven't been denied much in life. Not to say I live like some princess. My parents and I have lived in near poverty but I still never went hungry and always had presents for birthdays and New Years. To some extent, I've been spoiled. Thankfully, for myself and my parents, I haven't grown up under the impression that I can take advantage of the fact that my mama and papa are near saints.

Not Me

Two years ago I unwittingly created an image for myself and now I'm beginning to regret it. It's not who I am. I'm realizing just how many people think they know me and actually don't. I'm not sad. I'm currently very content with myself, my family, my friends, and my place in life.

I'm not quiet and I'm not reserved, I just find I often have to restrain myself from talking so as not to upset anyone or make myself look bad. Sometimes I just don't feel I have much to say.

When I stand and look at my feet, it's not because I'm trying to hide that I'm upset, it's because I'm thinking about my own things rather than what's around me.

I don't smile constantly like a doofus, most of the time I allow my face to relax and this doesn't mean I'm upset. I just don't feel I need to smile. I'm serious a lot of the time.

At this point in time, I've more or less sorted out my priorities and feel that my life is steadying out and I hate to think that I'm thought of as a sad girl with a poor self-image.

Dinner.

Here I am, highly caffeinated.

So many people at my school make judgments based upon clothing and physical appearance. I have maybe five people come up to me everyday and tell me what I'm wearing and sharing with me their opinions. I just want to scream in their faces "I DON'T FREAKING CARE!!" Clothing really doesn't matter much to me. I wear what I wear and I don't really think further than that. I don't seriously contemplate what I put on and after it's on I don't think about it at all. I had a girl come up to me today and say "Maria, you're wearing a brown shirt." Do you really need to tell me? What, I can't see for myself what the hell I'm wearing? I hate when people state the obvious.

I miss Puerto Rico. I'll live there one day, not forever, but for a little bit. I didn't like going with the class, they took us to the wrong places. It was dirty. When I was there at Christmas, it was so beautiful, so tropical. Everything tasted, looked, felt and smelled tropical. I want to go back and feel that again, feel like I'm part of nature. I feel so dirty in the city, surrounded by power plants and sidewalks. I want to be beautiful again. I want to be part of the Earth.

Hello, Community College!

I just got my midterm grades back, and well, they're ok. I got a 96 in English that I'm pretty happy with. The rest of my grades are Bs though. I mean, I know, Bs aren't great, but it's not like I'm failing, or even average, you know?

Anyways, my mom, upon hearing this, went crazy. I'm a C-student, I'm going to community college because no Harvard or even any decent school is going to accept me with grades like these (note: I'm not planning on even applying to Harvard and I have three-and-a-half-freaking-years to raise my stupid GPA and decide to which freaking college I want to freaking go to). So my life is going nowhere and I'm going to end up being poor and wishing I had gotten an A on my 9th grade Physics midterm.

Entry!

I read in the newspaper about a woman who assisted her son in committing suicide. Her son was 36, I think, and had just been diagnosed with MS. Not wanting to suffer for a long time, he decided to kill himself and asked his mother to help him. He drank a cocktail of medications, I guess, and while he was unconscious, his mother pulled a plastic bag over his head.

Question: Is what she did wrong? Is she a bad person?

On the one hand, she killed her own child. She committed a murder in a sense, even if it was concentual.

In his suicide note, her son wrote that bringing a child into the world is hard, but to help a child leave this world is even harder. Her child was suffering, he was going to suffer until he died. So, in a sense, what she did was selfless. Instead of keeping her child for herself, she killed him and "put him out of his misery". I asked my mother if she would be able to kill me if I were suffering, she just shook her head and looked like she was going to cry, "I don't even want to think about it."

My parents watched a movie (based on a true story) about the parents of a child with a rare disease that caused mental retardation and eventually death. The parents were set upon finding a way to save their child. Parents of children with the same disease told them what they were doing was selfish, the child was suffering, to let him die in peace. But they were set upon finding a cure. They studied medicine and eventually found a way of stopping the progression of the disease.

So, when the mother of the man with MS killed her son, was what she did wrong?

On a brighter note, I have since my last entry turned 15, have launched a vendetta against my History teacher, and have attempted to start a revolution.

Happy New Year.

It's been quite a while since I last made a post with any actual content-- if I've made any at that.

Everything has been going perfectly-- better than before at least. Time is now on my side, going by slowly but not too slowly. I'm beginning to adjust to changes and not stressing as much as I did before. After all, I can't control absolutely everything.

I'm not exactly sure that I have any New Year's resolutions, I probably don't. I've almost never been able to keep promises to myself.

I Be Back.

I have returned from my journey. It was pretty great.

Merry Christmas (to Alisa, I will call you ASAP)

This Life is so Confusing.

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.

I am not cruel, only truthful---
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.

Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long

I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.

Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.

I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.

In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

Mirror- Sylvia Plath

Life, Eh?

My legs and feet have joined the rest of my body in the war against Maria.

A week from today I will be in Puerto Rico. I'm spending Christmas over there with my godmother. I'm probably really looking forward to this trip. I've even marked it on my calendar with a sticker.


I've been seriously pondering as to whether or not I should just shave off all of my hair and start anew. The only thing restraining me from doing this is I have no idea what shape my head is underneath all of my hair. What if I have an oddly shaped head? That would be pretty awkward. So I should probably keep my hair on for now.

God, I Loved Having Red Hair.

I've been under a lot of stress, lately. I've probably made this pretty obvious to most of the people. I'm not depressed, not even close. I'm very tired and stressed out. I just want to say I'm sorry if I've been angry or annoyed at you and snapping at you even when you haven't done anything to deserve such treatment. But I ask you but one thing, please be understanding. Don't get upset with me if I say something mean or bitchy. I know this doesn't make it all right for me to say crappy things to you but I probably don't mean a word of it.

Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion |||||||||||| 50% Stability |||||||||| 36% Orderliness |||||| 23% Accommodation |||||||||||| 43% Interdependence |||||||||||| 50% Intellectual |||||||||||||||| 70% Mystical |||||||||||| 43% Artistic |||||||||||||||||| 76% Religious |||||||||||||| 56% Hedonism |||||||||||| 50% Materialism |||||| 23% Narcissism |||||||||||||| 56% Adventurousness |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Work ethic |||||||||||||||| 63% Self absorbed |||||||||||||||| 70% Conflict seeking |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Need to dominate |||||||||| 36% Romantic |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Avoidant |||||| 23% Anti-authority |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Wealth |||||||||||||| 56% Dependency |||||| 30% Change averse |||||||||||| 43% Cautiousness |||||| 23% Individuality |||||||||||||||| 70% Sexuality |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Peter pan complex |||||||||||| 50% Physical security |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Physical Fitness |||||||||||||| 57% Histrionic |||||||||||| 43% Paranoia |||||||||||||||| 63% Vanity |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Hypersensitivity |||||||||||||| 56% Female cliche |||||| 30%

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Scary.

So, we're moving.
A new life.
A new area code.

* dedicated to Sara (as promised)

Your Space

I don't really like when people make crude jokes. That's one of the reasons I don't like Myspace. Most people who have Myspaces are idiots. Just because I say this, doesn't mean you need to get all offended. Notice I used the word "most", this means my generalization may not include you. Second, just because I think you're an idiot, it doesn't stop me from liking you. Back to crude jokes. By this I mean things like "I want to have your babies." This is supposed to be funny? I don't see the humor. Seeing as most of the people who use Myspace are about 12. I don't think kids having sex is all that funny. Myspaces rarely have any reading content. You really think I'm going to read the entire list of music that you like that lasts about a million years? I doubt it. I couldn't care less about your interests and favorite movies. Not very many people who have Myspaces can spell. I guess this can be accredited to the fact that no one on Myspace seems to read. And if they do read, it's books like Gossip Girl. Which can hardly even be counted as a book. And what's with the surveys and quizzes. You're an idiot if you think someone will actually read your answers and care. It's a fact, most people only care about themselves. So basically, your entire site only matters to you.

Shut Up.

What is it, every two years we get depressed again? Why is everyone so fixated on having problems, is life too boring without having some sort of disorder? Of course, in comparison to everyone else, I seem ridiculously happy. Which is crap, by the way, I have my down moments just like anyone else. Stop making things up. Get a real life and don't wallow in your stupid bullshit problems.

When I was in seventh grade, I had a psychologist. This was because I thought my problems were special. In reality, most of my problems were imaginary. I would see her twice a week and talk to her mostly about the kids in my class. Tell her how sad I was. Complain, mostly. A good psychologist should let the patient know that he/she has the power to heal. The psychologists I know, or know of, all make the same mistake, they let or make the patient think there's a problem. The biggest problem you can have is taking yourself too seriously. I know, I know, it's a cliche. But if you think your problems are really important, chances are, you're wrong.

-2:19 PM -
Nov. 19

OK. I'm scared. This whole moving situation is becoming a reality. All of a sudden I'm struck with the prospect of having to find friends and, well, let's just say, I'm not much of a people person. I don't know how to get friends. For the first time since third grade, I'm going to be going to public school. And, frankly, I have no idea what that's going be like for me.

I Smile Like a Flower

If this me is not I, then
who am I?
If I am not the one who speaks, then
who does?
If this me is only a robe then
who is
the one I am covering?
Rumi

We All Want to Change the World.

Greetings From the Depths of Insanity.

I'm pretty much losing my head down here.

---

Говорят, не повезет,
Если черный кот дорогу перейдет,
А пока наоборот -
Только черному коту и не везет.

Чёрный Кот
Сюткин

Do You Know Who I Am? Because I Sure as Hell Don't.

I have no name. Not to you. I don't like the idea of a permanent name. Why should I be called the same thing my entire life if I'm always changing. I certainly don't feel like a Maria right now. I don't know what a Maria is. But I don't think it's a definition of me. I'm not saying Maria is a bad name, but I don't feel like one at the moment. Sometimes, I feel like a Maria. But not always.


I don't think I'm that special. Thinking that would be naive of me. I'm certainly different from a lot of kids my age, but that doesn't necessarily make me special. Off the top of my head, I can't really think of anyone who is actually Unique. Maybe Alisa. But that's because she's half bonkers and very Educated. Of course, I don't know enough people to actually be able to compare her properly.

"Always remember you're unique, just like everyone else."
Alison Boutler

Happy November.

Halloween & Маруся.

She bit me, scratched me, licked me and pushed me around. I've never been very good with kids. I'm not assertive enough. But she adores me nonetheless.

Inertia Creeps
Massive Attack

Recollect me darling, raise me to your lips.
Two unnourished egos, four rotating hips.
Hold on to me tightly; I'm a sliding scale
Can't endure, then you can't inhale.
Clearly
Out of body experience interferes
And dreams of flying, I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly

Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps
She's moving up slowly
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Inertia creeps

Work. Work. Work.

Five cups of coffee, a coke, and a chocolate chip cookie are what kept me awake until this point. For five hours, I was running on caffeine alone.

I stupidly agreed to go to work again tomorrow.

Not complaining, though.

Okay, maybe I am.

And We Will Make Memories.

"The thing is-- fear can't hurt you any more than a dream."

William Golding- Lord of the Flies

Simple Pleasures?

"Oh, we could feel this way forever."

What makes people happy? Why is it so often money? Or stuff? Do you need to own something to be happy?

Why can't you just be happy knowing that you belong to something beautiful? This Earth, while it still is beautiful. We live in good times, we're young and we can do so much. Yet we choose to spend our time on petty things. We are not here for eternity, shouldn't we make our lives worthwhile?

How is owning a large house, a nice car, and a green lawn rewarding? Does that really make people happy? What kind of happiness does a person feel when he sees his car is bigger than the car of his neighbor? Is it happiness where one can hardly keep it to oneself, like love? A quiet pleasure? Or a condescending satisfaction with oneself, or rather, with one's possessions?

How often do you just look at the sky, and feel so overwhelmed with the happiness of being part of this beauty that you just laugh? How often do you see your face, your hands, your feet and ponder the exquisiteness of your body, faults included? When was the last time you considered your own imperfection to be a perfection all its own? We spend so much time meditating on the bad things that we completely forget there are good things as well.

"I thought I fell in love the other day..."

Detox and No Pants.

Today I realized I have an addiction. I am addicted to music. It's not even because I like music all that much, putting on headphones blocks everything out for me and prevents my spazzing. It's for the safety of the public.

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
Edgar Allan Poe