There are days..

There are rare days when I wish I could disappear. Just move away and never make contact again. I wonder what people would say? What would they think?

I would like to have that kind of freedom. The freedom to pack a bag and drive off. To start a fresh new life in a new place. What would that be like?I'm going to do it one day.

I'm going to pack my bag in the middle of the night, and disappear. That'll be fun. I can imagine it now.

One night, a night like tonight or last night. Restless. Moody. Of course I have to be living on my own, because I'll never lose my family. I'll grab a bag, pack some clothes, and drive. Doesn't have to be far. Just to a different city. Start over. That seems so inviting.

Why does it always have to come down to you leaving, before I say I love you?
Why do I always use the words that cut the deepest? When I know how much it hurts you.Oh baby, why? Do I do that to you?

Artsy blog tonight. Sigh.

March 13th.

I love myself. And yet, I know that self-importance is one of my weaknesses. And yet, I know that I need to be somewhat more secure of my talents and skills. And yet, I'm scared of myself, and that maybe my fateful predictions can change things. What if they don't change things, but just predict them? I do believe in pre-ordained occurences. Pisces, snake, oracle. You are a mysterious one.

Is it so bad to want some recognition?

I honestly feel like I'm busting my balls out there. I'm sweating like crazy every day, staying in character constantly, and trying my hardest to focus. Can I just get a pat on the back? A 'Good job Bernal'? Is it seriously that hard? I mean, someone finally makes a fucking character choice, and she gets a gold star. What the fuck is that? Kris has had his character amazing since day one, and he hasn't gotten anything but tears today. You are going to make some enemies, Ms. Seney. And you won't be happy next year, when Hannah or Johnathan won't want to be in your shows. I don't blame them one bit. Although, they're both great people, so they'll still want to do shows, hopefully.

I'm going to talk to you two tomorrow. You need to stop being mean to me. I cried because you two were being bitches to me. Fucking shit. That sounds kind of whiney, but it was so random and out of the blue that it threw me off completely.

I don't know. I try to be nice, but sometimes I get these little events that kind of throw me off. I suppose it's good that I'm wondering if I'm being the most kind that I can be. I don't know. Fuck.

On a upper note, I've noticed that things between Michelle, Kayla, and me are definitely on the up-and-up. And I'm really happy for that. : D

When should you draw the line?

We've recently been discussing Eastern religions in my world geography class, and right now we're talking about Hinduism. The city of Varanasi is the holiest city in India, and the Ganges River, or Ganga ma[which means Mother Ganges], flows through it. Now the Ganges is a very holy river to them, it actually falls down from heaven. So pilgrims to the river bathe in it, drink from it, and bury dead in it. Of course, sewage is also dumped in it.

Now the prompt: When should the line between religion and science be drawn?

Obviously, this water is severly polluted. I think that the fecal matter count is 4,000 times above the accepted count. The people of Varanasi believe that Mother Ganges will clean herself, but some priests are also lobbying for government aid.

One of the arguments in class was, once the water is clean[if we can clean it at all], how do we keep it clean? Someone suggested changing the religion, to stop the people from burying dead and bathing in the water. Now, I don't necessarily agree with that. It's their belief! But that's what the problem is. It is very perpelexing indeed

In which we explore the boundaries between theatre gays and preppy straights.

For those of you who know me, you know that I am not a typical gay. I pass for straight quite often, and some even go so far as to refuse to believe it, at least for a while. But I am a theatre kid, and that alone sets me apart from other teens.

Everybody should know what a preppy straight is. Usually a football player, however, they can be associated with any sport. These guys aren't necessarily dicks, although tradition suggests it. Especially for theatre kids, and theatre gays. I've met some nice preppy straights, Javier is a perfect example of this. But, tradition also suggests that theatre gays and preppy straights do not hang out.

So, my brother, Daniel, is a preppy straight. He's not an exact preppy straight, and being a Pisces, acts differently around me then he does around other preppy straights. I'm sure all people do this to an extent, but Pisces are supposedly reknowned for this. My brother and I share alot of interests. Recently, Daniel and I played volleyball at the YMCA, and I would most definitly like to play some more with him. Daniel plays alot of sand volleyball with his friends. He's invited me to join him and his friends, but I'm fairly hesitant about this. As mentioned in above paragraphs, theatre gays and preppy straights are not supposed to mix well.

Now, here is the prompt.
Since life is not always directly parallel with stereotypes and tradition, should I abandon my fear and prejudices against these preppy straights and join them? Or is my brother naive for not seeing or understanding why I feel uncomfortable around his friends?

A good philosopher friend of mine suggests I just out right tell Daniel. "Just be like... 'your friends are very different from mine...and I respect that but you have to respect that I just don't feel comfortable around them.'" She also goes on to say, "Aside from the sexual thing, they are very different from you." But does she know this for sure? Once again, I am a Pisces, and I'm sure that somewhere inside of me is that inner prep. I was on the tennis team in 7th grade, and I did play street football in 8th and 9th grade outside of my house.

But I don't know.

So, this is why I'm hesitant to talk about my beliefs.

So, I had a talk with the guy just now, and we discussed, or more he told me his views on his beliefs. I didn't want to tell him about mine, because I can see where it would go. He would tell me that I'm wrong, and it's this way. See, I know because I've been arguing this since ninth grade.

In ninth grade, I was good friends with a strong Christian by the name of Lily. And every friday, on the band bus to the football games, Lily and I would argue about Christian theology. At the time I had only studied a little witchcraft, not becoming a witch until a little over two years later, but I still disagreed on alot of Christian ideas. I was agnostic, a good period of time for me, in which I learned alot about myself and spirituality. I would attempt to discuss some of these views with Lily, and at every attempt I would be faced with, "No. It's like this."

Tenth grade was relatively argument free, but Eleventh Grade wasn't. I was sort of dating-hanging out with this one guy, who had troubles with his sexuality, and was a fervent believer that Armageddon was going to come soon. The talk that I had tonight was almost word for word the ideas that had come from this eleventh grade guy.

Earlier today as well, I was talking to sympathetic people about a spell I had been asked to cast for someone. I immediately was told why I shouldn't do this spell, and how I would go about doing it if I was going to. This personally ticked me off, because these people were christians and I don't like people interefering with my spellwork, and I definitely don't like people interefering with my spirituality.

And people wonder why I'm hesitant to talk about my beliefs.

It's been a long time.

I've taken to writing everything in my journal now, so I seldom post anything online, unless I feel like being a blogger again. Oh and being emo too.

Last night I got home around 11 and I decided to take a walk with Lu, but I didn't leave till around 11:30. It was really nice with the fog every where, not at all creepy. I felt safe. And I cried. Not the sobbing, gasping kind, and not the silent, tears streaming down my face. This was earnest and heart-felt. I had also cried earlier in the car while I was waiting for Billy, but I sorta made myself that time because I was singing Bare, although this has to do with why I cried in the fog.

I talked out loud, because when I'm stressed it helps me to sort things through. And no matter what, all I came back to was that I... can't.. "Let go, no, I can't let go of you. You're holding me back without even trying to." And I would fade into song when the quotations came. Right now, while trying to think of what to type it happened again. I just.. I can't.. "I can't let go, I can't move off of the past. Without lifting a finger you're holding me back."

And I wondered. Maybe I don't like anyone this year, because I'm still stuck. Maybe when I'll actually be able to voice this story outloud to someone, someone who should hear it, maybe then I'll be released. Maybe I just can't let go, and never will.



Thanks for listening to my emoness.