Life is Like That....What Ever That MayBe......
Saturday, Mar. 13, 2004, 7:46 P.M.
As we all stand back and enjoy the bitter the truth of socity and the build up of emotions and so such. We beging to reaize something, something special and something unlike any else. This something different that we observe is something so special that only you as an indivual can notice and see. Ever hear the saying beuty is in the eye of the beholder. You ever think about how this same saying can be related to real life? I belive I can. Life is simple as great as we make it, or better yet as great as we belive it is to be. Because life real is not perfect, and it is most sertinly something no one will ever fully understand, and yet for some continus reason we under estamate it. In any case, life is something so wonderfull and perfect depending on the person that is looking at it. As for my self, Iam quite happy with life. Of corse like anything else it seems to have it diffacutlies. But like everything else it is great, it is wonderfull, and it makes you feel like you can fly. Some prefure to get high on drugs, I perfure life. Iam most defintly one of thoes happy people that seem to be anyingly happy all of the time, and for what ever reason never seem to be able to off that. Even when I do, I seem to have this happy vibe off my self. I feed off my own happyness, and as most realize they begin to feed off of mine. As one great Women said, that I have learned to greatly respect and admier said...I just can't be depressed around you, I get my big sweater out, do the dark make-up and just tell the worl to screw its self, because life sucks. But then you can hopping skipping alone, and it is like Damit Naomi.
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I got something in the mail today. Something for me as an individual. Me personal. Something that was hand written and addresed to me. It was not stamped, it did not have a return addres. That made me think before opening it, it made me think iam going to get scars from this, Iam going to die if I open this "no return" addressed letter. But in any case my quaostiy yet again got the better of me. And as I franticly opened it, it said a few simple words, words that I would love to apply to my self, words that belong to be, and words I needed to here. They go as follows......
You are you self, you are what we all love, you are the understandable dark sidded peer that no seems to understand. You are everything needed, everything addmired, and yet for a strong reason the person hatted by all, you are the person that is up in everyones face, for this we hate you. You are what we are not, you are what we can only dream to be. You are the person with a goal and achovement. You are going to U-vic and you are going to become an HR you are going to do the things we all dream to be. You are going to work, have a family and if you are lucky enough you will still be able to locate enough time to pain your nails.....You are Naomi Louise McLeod...an over achiver, a smart alick, the dumb child in the class that seems to be able to BS her way threw anything, the intulectual that dars to never come out, the perfect cheerleader that never apears to additions....You are what we all love hate and strive to be....
Lots a Luvvies Cam, Seth, and Matt......
What am I supposed to say to a stupid letter like that hummm? That is what I thought. They forgot a number of things, self concided, brutily honest, very hard on people, very judgementaly, imposible to please, impossible to get along with, Iam all of these things. I belive they sent the wrong letter......
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Want to hear the saddest thing in the world? Would you like to hear about how I think Mrs. Hillary Duff is a genious, about how I envey her? Of corse you would. So I was watching the good old Much Music (Canadian Style) today. And I noticed soemthing, she is abel to make a terrible T.V. Show put out a good awfull C.D and even worse clothing line. And yet for some reason we all rush out to buy these product to watch the silly show on Disny. To do all of these things. I belive she is a wonderfull business women. And even worse this is jsut me, but she looks 12 and is 16! And has all of this! All of this, not just because she started because she started at 6, or because she might actualy be smart, at least smart enough to hire smart poeple to do all of this. But because she has real role models. How many of us look to famous poeple to represnt something we will never be. Most of us will never become famous, maybe if we are lucky we will be a legend amoung are grade class. But other than that we will be normal poeple that go to work every day, work in are gray scummy cubicals and live for this. Mrs. Hillary Duff beat this. She looked to real people. For this I remember you, for this I envy you, for this I thank-you. And now I promise to never buy your product, watch your show, or lisen to your music, it might seem like Iam trying to be like you....ha ha ha ha.
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As I sat in my room today, looking down at my tatered writs and chopped legs. I noticed something, I noticed the pain that is indudlged into them. The stratigest that lay deep within the laughter and kiddin smiles. I notice the un-noticable. I see the things you do not, I understand what you don't. I learn the things you will never, I will be able to relive stress, pain, and emotion better than you ever will. I was able to look at my self and think that self aflicked pain is not called for her. Self aflicted pain is something we learn to deal with, soemthing that begings as a rebelion and then moves on to a drug and then a habbit. It is something you can not go a day with out. Something you begin to look to for answears, you want to know why. Because we allways look at our selves for answears. Some look to their logical side to find answears, indulge deep into the emotional aspect, and some sick indivuals got to their bodys.... What are you?
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As she slit her writs in the usualy form, in the casual but usualy sliding back and forth, in the slow but painfull order that indulges her own intulectual understandings. The usualy way that makes her scream out in pain as soon as the cold metal touches her soft girly pale skin. As she slid the knife that has most deffintly claimed her sanity, her health and her well being, she does not scream out this time. Something is different this is not right. She allways screams out, she allways cries, she always asks for petty upon her self. She has allready died....before she could answear.....You figure it out.....
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Oaky so I did the old Mayonase and egg things today, guess what I don't smell like SALAD!
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My life seems so meaningless right now! I don't know, it's just... I've never been this alone before. I can't explain it in words. My heart is weighed down and I don't know how to fix it. Nothing works, and I - I don't know. It's like time has stopped, only I've kept going, and there's no solution, or way to make everything right again. It's almost like I've lost a big chunk of my life... like some huge, extremely relevant part of me has been taken away. I feel dirty. Not in the physical way or form, but my heart feels unclean. Something has had some kind of impact on me, but I don't know what it is, or what that impact has really done to my life. Have you ever been that way? Where you've you've been trapped in a box and there's no means of escape at all? You've suffocated, and you've died what it seems a million times, but you're still there. Like an empty shell, almost. Devoid of all feelings whatsoever. Maybe I'm just being conceited. Or maybe I'm just imagining everything. I'm not sure, but I want to be free. I want to go home. I want to go home to God, so I can feel His love come down on me, and so I'll feel like I have a meaning and I have a purpose. I know that people care about me, and I know that only a couple of them know how much I hate life. I mean, I don't want to be perfect, and I don't want to die, but I just want to not care. Is that so hard?
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