I wish you would realize.

That you deserve so much better. I don't know why you go on like this. You're bound to get heart broken, but I promise I'll be different. Just wait it out a little. I'm still here. I still feel like I did when we first met, and I miss you.

Happy Halloween everyone. It finally feels like fall.

Attraction is easy.

It's when the feelings settle in and take over your every thought when thing's start to get complicated. I talked to them. Like old times. Compliments and sweet nothings the like. I don't know what I'm going to do if it ends. I don't know if I have enough left in me for that.

It's been a slow night. Putting off school work. Burning incense, drinking cranberry juice, and watching Ciao Manhattan tapes. It makes you realize how insignificant your life is. It doesn't start until you live under the city lights and soak in everything around you. I can't wait for it.

Should of lasted longer.

My jacket smells like smoke, hair dye, and body spray. Good night.

We are golden.

I'm tired of convincing myself that everything is a sign. I've always had this mentality that when something happens, no matter how trivial, there's an ultimate reason. And more than not I get my hopes up and think more of something than what it really is. But it's all whatever in the end. Fall break started today. I'm ready to stay up late talking to foreigners online with starbucks in hand. I just wish you were here too.

Mental health day.

I needed one. I got one.

The Delivery Man

"I realized two things tonight," Michele says.

"What?"

"The first is that your girlfriend is fucking beautiful."

"Don't do this tonight."

But Michele isn't listening. "The second thing I realized" - Michele looks away and her lips are trembling and then she looks back at him - "is that I'm not loved . . . " Chase knows what she's going to say next. Michele grabs his face and turns it toward her and squeezes it. ". . . by anyone."

It takes a minute before Chase realizes that Julia is watching them.

Dear confused scenie prep kids.

I hope you enjoy most of my favorite bands on the New Moon soundtrack. Please don't ruin it for me. You still don't know good music. You're no where close to indie.

I'm not indie per say but I'd like to think I know good music.

I want short breaths.

I was watching Flipping Out today. Which if you haven't watched is basically...

A show takes a look at a peculiar real estate speculator, Jeff Lewis who lives in LA. He buys houses and "flips" them, selling them for a profit after fixing them up. He does so with the help of an unusual mix of disgruntled employees that he counts as friend.

It's all reality too. Go figure. So throughout last night's episode one of his client's, Chaz, was trying to convince Jeff to let him deal with the homeless person that had been there for twelve years on his property. And he had a whole story about how he had been meditating and asking for signs or a spirit to guide him to where his place of work should be built. So he and his partner were driving around Los Angeles and found an empty lot with a homeless lady sitting on the back porch. When Chaz's partner asked her what her name was she took off her sunglasses, stared straight into Chaz's eyes, and answered Sprit. Which Chaz took as the sign he had been looking for. At the end of the episode after Jeff finally agrees to let her stay on the property and build a shelter for her. She dies. But it was so profound. The impact it had on everyone. This homeless lady that no one had an attachment to other than the story they had heard about her. It just really made me feel so insignificant. I have my whole life ahead of me. It makes me just want to live it. To give myself a chance to be happy. Because god knows I've been far from it lately.

Side note: I'm in the mood to burn a candle and take a nap. I hate naps.

No invitation, take me away.

I'm sitting here. Shaking. Crying. I don't know what to do with myself. I haven't felt a low like this since two summers ago. And I'm afraid of what might happen next. And afraid to go to bed and get up with this state of mind tomorrow. I don't understand what I've done to deserve this kind of feeling.

When I grow up.

I'm tired of trying so hard for you. But I'll continue to. Plans are to go to another fair tomorrow. We have to leave at nine. Sunday is my sleeping in day. Oh well. Mother is buying me skinnies tonight. Britney Spears is stuck my head. Maybe I'll break in the jacket in this week. I got my peach kefir. I want to try my hand at writing a journal. Problem is you can't just go back and delete it like this. I'm too much of a perfectionist. I hate perfectionists though. My feet are cold but the rest of me is hot. I stay dressed until nine in case people want to hang out. Popcorn makes me feel fat. Don't let me eat more popcorn. I'm starting the Great Gatsby. I put the pore strip to high and it didn't get where most of my black heads are. Someone stole the developer from the photo lab so I could only make prints. I'm really starting to dig Fever Ray. I think I'm going to wake up before the sun tomorrow. Just because I miss mornings. We'll see how that goes.

Come lay with me on the ground

I'm staying in tonight. Listening to Passion Pit and Bright Eyes. Watching video blogs on youtube. Drinking starbucks. And talking to strangers online. It can't turn out good. I don't think I've ever had a friday night at home where I didn't die of boredom or have something come up that makes me pissed off or depressed.

I'm ready for my class tomorrow. Developing film has become really therapeutic for me. Probably because I'm not concentrating on petty teenage angst. And I'm actually satisfied with what I've taken this week. I just hope they turn out how I wanted them to.

My dad saw me looking for winter jackets on Urban and had me go upstairs with him to his closet, where he then gave me his old Banana Republic bomber jacket from the eighties. As if it couldn't get any better, it turned out to be the same one he wore every day he was in London twenty some years ago. Complete with a vintage pair of gloves from London. Once the musty smell is gone I'm going to live in this thing. Photos of it on my daily booth soon.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is on hold. It's kind of disappointing. I may move on to something else though. I'll come back to it eventually. I promise. I'd never leave a book unfinished.

Side note: I need to fix my computer so they realize starbucks is the correct spelling.

Side side note: The heater is on. And it feels fucking amazing.

You told me the distance would make us stronger. That it'd make us more grateful for each other once we were together. But it's also the one thing that could tear us apart. I still like you. I hope you do too.

Everyday after the last bell rings for school I walk out the nearest door and stand out in the cold for five minutes waiting for the buses to come. It's just so peaceful for me. I wish I could walk home from school. Reminds of those movies where the person in a heavy fall jacket steps on all the fallen brightly coloured leaves with the wind blowing in their face. I want that.

If tonight was any indication of the month to come. I'm fucking stoked.