fate's a cruel mistress, girl

August 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 August 2011 September 2011 October 2011 November 2011 January 2012

ericamay, 25may1995, single forever, devoted to peter pan

charlieissocoollike, doctor who, peter pan, you me at six, i see stars, andy oliver, devin oliver, ribbons, bows, drummers, bright colours, black and white contrast, people who smile a lot, laughing, beats, rhythms, being good at something, fireworks, writing, sketching, details, internet, photoshop, graphic design, coding, paint, crayons, paper, plain goldfish, the colours green and blue, prince phillip, princess aurora, tinkerbell, neverland, disneyland, disneyworld, crush the turtle, chemistry, storybook romance, arctic monkeys, britain, irish accents, every accent, scottish boys, skinny boys, pale boys, collarbones, freckles, gingers, photobooths, madina lake, billy idol, chocolate chip cookies, toffee, tiny marshmallows, hot cocoa, good memories, bloodrushes, laughing, singers, musicians, good headphones, punching the backs of car seats while listening to hardcore music in parking lots, hugs, kisses, winter, sweaters, hoodies, scarves, snowflakes, eyelashes, pretty eyes, dark hair, blonde hair, straight hair, wavy hair, offensive humours, people who don't take things seriously, heated debates, awkward moments, having private concerts home alone, red pandas, sharks, weasels, minxes, puppydogs, kittycats, post-it notes, caring reminders, strawberries, raspberries, william beckett, matt smith, karen gillan, david tennant, alex turner, joe brooks, noah and the whale, mumford and sons, los campesinos, french people, foreign languages, magic tricks, illusions, photographs, macros, doodling people i know, doodling people i wish i knew, pens that flow smoothly, shortbread cookies, tapping my feet, high fives, pokemon, laughing so hard i cry, being told people love me, winning, swedish fish, candies, neil patrick harris, nerimon, frezned, danisnotonfire, alexisonfire, billy talent, taking back sunday, john gomez, brian dales, alex pettyfer, logan lerman, tumblr, squareenix, old names, music class, good friends, late-night confessions, hanging out anywhere, eccentricity, spontaneous people, people with good memories, being unforgotten, lyricists, air heads, scissors, kicking, unicorns, rainbows, miss rainicorn, adventure time with finn and jake, flapjack, we came as romans, architects, joy division, two door cinema club, emma watson, george craig, emma watson and george craig together, the hoosiers, old photos, chalk drawing, graffiti, skateboarders, bmx riders, comic fanatics, superheros, guys, candy in tin cases, pastel stars, pointless wishing, sweet dreams, morning messages, text conversations, honey on toast, apple jelly, internet memes, advil, motion city soundtrack, vampire weekend, rolo tomassi, people named connor, people named sebastian, william, james, oliver, owen, eoin, alexander, joshua, andrew, aaron, christopher, jackson, hunter, and the like, the afterlife kids, downloading music, new downloads, video games, rpgs, shooter games, screaming, all forgotten, arcade fire, the asteroids galaxy tour, kick ass, aaron johnson, christopher mintz-plasse, devon werkshire, thick rimmed glasses, flickr, hipsters, cute kids, never growing up, beastie boys, we are the ocean, blink182, chameleon circuit, john green, hank green, paper towns, the perks of being a wallflower, lewis carroll, c.s. lewis, absolute brightness, the chronicles of narnia, lockets, trinkets, mimes, golden pocketwatches, nifty antiquities, halloween, sewing, the click five, parkway drive, cold war kids, obscurities, confessions, bookstores, candy stores, inside jokes, walls of wonder, being awesome, skins, kaya scodelario, luca pasqualino, jack o'connell, nicholas hoult, max hewer, hannah murray,

and a number of other things...

oh my,

6.12.09 at 9:42 AM

I had to delete
most of my older posts because of some glitch in the coding. As unhappy as that may have made me, I can say I don't mind much at all. Anyways, here is that post I'd been meaning to put up. Maybe you'd like to read it? - I'd value that (: There are bugs here and there - tiny little typos - so just don't mind them. Thank you (:

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

TUESDAY, JUNE 26, 2OO9
the epic battle between myself and sleep

189.73665962. 36,000, when simplified. For those of you easily overwhelmed with large values collected in the numeral form, that’s thirty-six-thousand. But the question in tow was: What is so significant about this number? It is a large number and could very well describe a number of irrelevant things – however, since you do not know the topic I am about to unfold, a matter of irrelevance is nowhere in your authority to judge – but in this particular context, it is the number that describes the amount of seconds a person wastes of their lives, soaking themselves up in spontaneous messages that the brain portrays. And what were these messages? Dreams, that is what they are. You may argue with me that dreaming is not a waste of time, but think of it this way: The average, healthy human being will live to be eighty, as so described by recent scientific speculation (of course it very well depends on which country’s lifespan you are focusing on, for they all differ based on their value of life; disease, fresh water, material qualities, etc.) which just so happens to be 6, 912, 000 seconds of life. That’s right, almost seven million. Despite that large number of seconds, 2,880, 000 seconds of the average lifetime will be spent asleep. Ideally, that’s 33 years, 121 days, 15 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds. That amount of time is about equal to a third of someone’s lifetime. If you were born in a place where proper education in fractions wasn’t necessary, that’s only two-thirds left to live. Sadly enough, quite a few people die in their sleep, even more die before hitting a prime old age. Sleep is a mercenary who lures you in by the sweet coos of fatigue, of your bones aching and your muscles aching and the appeal of a comfy mattress with a warm comforter and cool pillowcase. It lures you in with the bribery of lovely dreams and shutting down. It loses its cool and leaves the imprints of horrid nightmares in your head. The work of psychiatrists having to prescribe you different methods, just so you can be lured back into its evil clutches.

That isn’t to say that I, myself, don’t fraternize with the enemy. The answer to that is simple: I sleep when I need to and wake up once I’m done - Simple as that. There need not be any reason to go to bed very early or to sleep in. And thank God that I didn’t because if I knew that my doorbell would be ringing like mad at about ten in the morning, and I happened to be asleep, such a horrible outcome would bestow itself upon me, for sure. The time I got up this great morning was an exception to my usual early rising: a measly five in the morning. I had to check up on my blogs and upload a new video to YouTube. A video that I had spent all night before the prom doing. It wasn’t a crazy special effects video, just one of my sarcastic little blogs that people seemed to enjoy. I constantly got comments that were very difficult to read and when I could read them, they were either mad at me for insulting ‘the best singer in the world’ or telling me I was adorable and they were coming to rape me. Oh how I really hope they were kidding. I remember, just the other day, I got a message from a girl asking about my views on polygamy. I did not respond, of course. Who focuses their time on thinking about their views on multi-person marriages? Another reason why I had gotten up at five was because one of my friends in England was going to be Skype-calling me and I needed to answer. All in all, it was a pretty busy morning to lead up to the day that was my Grad. For this occasion, my parents didn’t go to work and, instead, stayed home or went out shopping. Both were early risers naturally, so I didn’t disturb them with my routines.

Fast-forwarding like I do when I find commercials at the beginning of the Star Wars films I record every week on the PVR, at around ten in the morning, I just so happened to be trying to update the memory in that old desktop. Oh, wait, no. That was at eight, my mistake. At ten, I was sitting in the living room upstairs, clad in my pin-striped pyjamas and tee, watching old episodes of cartoons I’d seen a million times before but never lost any amusement in. Just when Barbara (a.k.a., Batgirl) was explaining the end of Robin’s journey with Bruce Wayne, the cacophony that was a doorbell ringing three times every second – about as long as it took for the button to release itself and pop back up under the culprit’s fingers – with a groan, I waited a little bit, just so I could try and catch the final words, but the volume was drowned out by that annoying, ‘ding-dong!’ and I couldn’t wait any longer. I could already hear the moving about of my parents on the main floor. About five steps down, the ringing stopped and either the person gave up and left or my parents had already welcomed them in.

» NARRATIVE INITIATION «

The Carson couple sat together in the kitchen in their daywear and discussed the day over their sips of coffee. With every flyer they put down, belonging to either Wal-Mart, Zellers, Food Basics, Loblaws or some other store, they would mention their plans of the day: Mrs. Carson had to pick up a couple of little gifts for each of his son’s teachers and Mr. Carson had to drive down to Costco and pick up a couple of bags of milk and some eggs for a cake he would be baking. They would leave as soon as they finished looking through the flyers. Just as the male was licking his finger to turn a page in the Best Buy flyer, the doorbell started to ring like it had Parkinson’s disease. Mister Carson opened his mouth to say something, but his wife placed a hand on his shoulder and offered to get it, which she did. As soon as the door opened, she saw the red-headed girl who was a close friend of her son’s. She had her finger still on the buzzer, obviously expecting her friend to have come to the door later. ”Good morning, Jaydee!” her voice was singsong as she held the door open for the young girl to come in. ”Ready to graduate?” She laughed lightly as she closed the door behind the girl. ”Mitchel! Jaydee’s here!” she called up the stairs as she swept into the kitchen, the sound of a boy’s sardonic drawl following after her. ”Really, mom? I really couldn’t tell by the erratic doorbell-ringing or the sound of a cat dying in the distance, due to her very presence.” That was the usual response one would hear from a dork like Mitchel and the eighteen-year-old girl was probably very used to hearing that. As soon as he came down to the foyer where she lingered like she always did when she longed to depress and annoy him in ways that he did not believe to be humanly possible, prior to, he glared at her like Mister Wilson would Dennis the Menace. ”It is so hard for anyone to deal with you, you know? The hypothetical theory in itself is a method used to cut diamonds.”

TUESDAY, JUNE 26, 2OO9 at 1O:46AM
jaydee lydia ryerson v.s. sliced bread and morphine

To every cloud, there is a silver lining, yes. In my eyes, I see the opposite: every positive has a negative. You could win the lottery, but it would only make you greedy and prejudiced. You could donate money to a charity of your choice, but later, you’ll get fired from your job and realize you're bankrupt. You could adapt to the cold, but that wouldn’t prevent you from catching a cold. You could find the end of the rainbow, but you most certainly wouldn’t find a pot of gold. My positive: befriending someone so unlikely as Jaydee Lydia Ryerson and actually being something other than the sarcastic nerd who isn’t even friends with the nerds. My negative: having to put up with this girl every single day. To most guys at the school, she’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, she’s just that awesome. She’s the kind of girl who would tell you something and anything out of her mouth was instant gold. She was funny, pretty, talented, witty and ... just plain rad. However, she has just about the same properties as morphine: unrealistic how amazing it was, but it would still become so addictive, should you be kept in contact with it too long. Then again, I think back to those times when I’d eat lunch in a secluded area outside because I couldn’t be bothered to make any friends. I remember the times I’d been threatened to get my head bashed in so much I wouldn’t be able to speak smart-aleck comments anymore (no matter how medically implausible that sentence had been structured and how half-witted the bluff was). It’s those things that remind me how grateful I was to have someone like Ryerson to call a friend, even if she wouldn’t leave me be for a minute’s peace. There. I said it.

With a weak smile, I gestured for her to follow me into the kitchen where I found a box of Oreos and thrust in her direction – that should keep her occupied – and then turned up the steps, leaving her to option to follow me upstairs or naught. Actually, she didn’t have that option, because I couldn’t really leave her with my parents – my parents were far too social when it came to my age group, I sometimes thought that if they transferred into high school while I was still there, they’d make more friend than I could have in four years’ time. Sprinting back down the steps, I grabbed her around the wrist and hauled her up to my room, where the laptop screen was glowing eerily. I shut on the light and sat myself into the chair, typing in the password to the computer and spinning around the face her while it loaded. ”So, what do you want?” Despite the brashness of my words, I really did want to know if there was a sole purpose to her visit – not that she only visited for that reason, but it would be best to accomplish anything rather than have to guess – or if she just wanted to hang out until Grad. I spotted the chocolaty Starbucks in her hand with a frown. ”You go to Starbucks without picking anything up for me, yet I still let you into my house... How do you do it?” Just about now, I was really craving for an iced drink with coffee, but I wasn’t going to make her walk with me all the way back there, and I didn’t really want to go it alone; meeting Jaydee literally has been a life-changing factor.