Her Smiling Eyes

Monday, March 14, 2005

I've been really weird lately. It happens when I think a lot. Come to think of it, I always think a lot. But usually I can control it and give myself I break.

But lately I've been really anxious or something. I've been paranoid and reclusive. And I don't like it. I just want to be Jenny.

Friday was bad news. I just kind of cracked in history class. I decided to write my friend a note while we were watchin part of Pearl Harbor (which I have already seen anyway) and I was just getting all these buried thoughts out. Thoughts that I've been trying to push aside and ignore. But they've been bothering me and I don't know. Anyway, I was suddenly at the verge of tears and I had to pull myself together before anyone saw me. And I was shaking either because it's really cold by the window (which it is) or I was just nervous or something. I'd be lying if I said I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me but then again I am not sure. But I finished the note the best I could and tried to end it on a good note. Then I was struggling to decide whether I should give it to her or not because I usually see her after 8th hour. But it was so sad and pathetic that I figured whatever happy or content mood she could be in would just die right there. And I couldnt do that so I still have it and I couldnt find her anyway. It made me sad because I needed to see her and talk to her just about stuff because we talk and sometimes I feel better or get hope that things will be okay. And usually they are but I had to take my own word for it and try and believe it.

So I got on the bus and I was freaking out and I still wasnt exactly sure why but I had an idea nevertheless because I'm not completely clueless about my mind and body. I just wanted to go home and sleep or just lay there and look at the ceiling and fall into a deep trance with the music and feel safe and comfortable. And the ride was so long and I was so tired of wearing this plastic smile that I was ok because I didn't know how long I could take lying to myself. I didn't know how long I could hold the tears back until I got home and could be alone and let whatever it was that was drain out or something.

And it wasnt even the tests I took that day because I took 2 english tests (I was absent for one) and I know I did very well on both. But I just was freakin out and I havent been like that for a while and it made me freak out more. I just get so scared sometimes and I never clearly know why or I do but I just never admit it. It's just like whatever that is bothering me I push aside into my subconscious and then subconsciously it is still bothering me and I never really notice it until I start getting paranoid or want to cry all the sudden and soon my smiles seem forced and I feel possessed by some sad soul looking for a host and I just happen to be that lucky person.

But I got home and I went straight to my room because I didnt want to talk especially since I didn't really know what to talk about. And I layed in bed and listened to my music and tried to lay there peacefully without thinking.

Then I woke up and finished To Kill A Mockingbird. My favorite chapter was the very last one, not because it signifies the ending but because it brought to light all the things I appreciate in relationships. Like how I would picture a happy family and the start of a happy friendship and just realizations that we are growing older with every minute that passes and getting more mature with each moment that has some sort of meaning in our life. And I was reading how Atticus stayed in Jem's room until he woke up the next morning and I started crying because I wanted a relationship like that. I thought about how the book affected me and how it inspired me in any way and I realize that I want to be as respected and loved as Atticus is when I am a parent. I want my children to look at me as someone they can trust and count on and I want to try my best and be as fair as I can be. I cried for a while thinking about it and then I wrote about how I was feeling in my bedside notebook. I don't know how to organize these feelings unless they are in words. And I was ok crying then because I was in my room. But it made me sad that I could never do that in front of anyone. I feel ashamed even crying in the presence of my ma.

I sat in a daze for a while and it felt like I was on pause. If I could float, I probably would have been floating. Everything was silent though the radio was still on medium volume. And I just stared in front of me. I was just trying to sort everything out and soak in anything that could help the process. I read last year's Finesse because sometimes poetry can be comforting. When I read another person's poetry, I kinda put myself into their shoes and how they might have been feeling when they wrote it. I try and consider what inspired the piece and where they were. And sometimes the poetry is sad and I realize that other people than myself are probably sad right now, too. Half of those people may not know exactly why either. And sometimes I feel better because then I remember how small I am in this world and that Im not the only one experiencing life and what complications it has.

And then I started reading The Perks of Being A Wallflower because it is a coming of age novel and I figured it would touch base with some of the mixed emotions I am feeling. It did and I was becoming more and more relaxed. I only read one letter that night and just that much made me feel relieved. It's okay to feel off every once and a while. It's natural for humans to feel. And I am only human-nothing more, nothing less. I always seem to have trouble understanding that. I always seem to try and defy human nature and deny feelings and emotions or even go as far as trying not to feel at all and pretend to be numb. But the truth is, I would never want to be numb. No matter how many feelings I endure and pain or strife that might make me want to reconsider later, there are always the good feelings that make feeling all the worthwhile.

The most important thing in the world to me right now is to say that I do care. I really do care. And no matter how much I try and deny it and think nothing of it, it will always be the opposite. Sometimes I am afraid to show how much I care. But I do care. And whatever that may matter, there it is.

I wish there was a time where I would feel safe to let myself truly feel and not be so afraid of what everyone else might think or their reaction/lack of reaction. I wish I didn't have to be so paranoid and feel so vulnerable and get so nervous all the time. I wish I didn't freak out anymore. I wish I could feel certain and things could be consistant.

I went on a writing rampage. I wrote about 3 poems. One was about the rain. What would have made it prettier is if it was raining while I wrote it. Every so often, I could have sworn it was but I wasnt sure because I had my music on. And I sure as hell wasnt going to get up. I wrote this one poem and I keep reading it over and over because the more I read it, the more I remember. And remembering is nice.

I woke up better Saturday. I think it was because I had plans and I was excited. It's kind of hard to elaborate though because all I can think about was what I previously wrote. I will say that I had loads of fun at swing street and my favorite part was dancing. I really enjoyed the energy up there and the smiles everywhere...I just felt alive again compared to the night before. The lights were on us, my friends were all around me, and I danced my heart out and smiled sincerely.

I hope my thoughts go away. I think too much for my own good. I just wish to be wanted. I wish I knew who to talk to or go to. I wish I could do the things I think about rather that just thinking about them. I wish I knew who to call.

Jenny at 9:09 PM

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her smiling eyes
this is your cue. smile.
Monday, March 14, 2005 I've been really weird lately. It happens when I think a lot. Come to think of it, I always think a lot. But usually I can control it and give myself I break. But lately I've been really anxious or something. I've been paranoid and reclusive. And I don't like it. I just want to be Jenny. Friday was bad news. I just kind of cracked in history class. I decided to write my friend a note while we were watchin part of Pearl Harbor (which I have already seen anyway) and I was just getting all these buried thoughts out. Thoughts that I've been trying to push aside and ignore. But they've been bothering me and I don't know. Anyway, I was suddenly at the verge of tears and I had to pull myself together before anyone saw me. And I was shaking either because it's really cold by the window (which it is) or I was just nervous or something. I'd be lying if I said I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me but then again I am not sure. But I finished the note the best I could and tried to end it on a good note. Then I was struggling to decide whether I should give it to her or not because I usually see her after 8th hour. But it was so sad and pathetic that I figured whatever happy or content mood she could be in would just die right there. And I couldnt do that so I still have it and I couldnt find her anyway. It made me sad because I needed to see her and talk to her just about stuff because we talk and sometimes I feel better or get hope that things will be okay. And usually they are but I had to take my own word for it and try and believe it. So I got on the bus and I was freaking out and I still wasnt exactly sure why but I had an idea nevertheless because I'm not completely clueless about my mind and body. I just wanted to go home and sleep or just lay there and look at the ceiling and fall into a deep trance with the music and feel safe and comfortable. And the ride was so long and I was so tired of wearing this plastic smile that I was ok because I didn't know how long I could take lying to myself. I didn't know how long I could hold the tears back until I got home and could be alone and let whatever it was that was drain out or something. And it wasnt even the tests I took that day because I took 2 english tests (I was absent for one) and I know I did very well on both. But I just was freakin out and I havent been like that for a while and it made me freak out more. I just get so scared sometimes and I never clearly know why or I do but I just never admit it. It's just like whatever that is bothering me I push aside into my subconscious and then subconsciously it is still bothering me and I never really notice it until I start getting paranoid or want to cry all the sudden and soon my smiles seem forced and I feel possessed by some sad soul looking for a host and I just happen to be that lucky person. But I got home and I went straight to my room because I didnt want to talk especially since I didn't really know what to talk about. And I layed in bed and listened to my music and tried to lay there peacefully without thinking. Then I woke up and finished To Kill A Mockingbird. My favorite chapter was the very last one, not because it signifies the ending but because it brought to light all the things I appreciate in relationships. Like how I would picture a happy family and the start of a happy friendship and just realizations that we are growing older with every minute that passes and getting more mature with each moment that has some sort of meaning in our life. And I was reading how Atticus stayed in Jem's room until he woke up the next morning and I started crying because I wanted a relationship like that. I thought about how the book affected me and how it inspired me in any way and I realize that I want to be as respected and loved as Atticus is when I am a parent. I want my children to look at me as someone they can trust and count on and I want to try my best and be as fair as I can be. I cried for a while thinking about it and then I wrote about how I was feeling in my bedside notebook. I don't know how to organize these feelings unless they are in words. And I was ok crying then because I was in my room. But it made me sad that I could never do that in front of anyone. I feel ashamed even crying in the presence of my ma. I sat in a daze for a while and it felt like I was on pause. If I could float, I probably would have been floating. Everything was silent though the radio was still on medium volume. And I just stared in front of me. I was just trying to sort everything out and soak in anything that could help the process. I read last year's Finesse because sometimes poetry can be comforting. When I read another person's poetry, I kinda put myself into their shoes and how they might have been feeling when they wrote it. I try and consider what inspired the piece and where they were. And sometimes the poetry is sad and I realize that other people than myself are probably sad right now, too. Half of those people may not know exactly why either. And sometimes I feel better because then I remember how small I am in this world and that Im not the only one experiencing life and what complications it has. And then I started reading The Perks of Being A Wallflower because it is a coming of age novel and I figured it would touch base with some of the mixed emotions I am feeling. It did and I was becoming more and more relaxed. I only read one letter that night and just that much made me feel relieved. It's okay to feel off every once and a while. It's natural for humans to feel. And I am only human-nothing more, nothing less. I always seem to have trouble understanding that. I always seem to try and defy human nature and deny feelings and emotions or even go as far as trying not to feel at all and pretend to be numb. But the truth is, I would never want to be numb. No matter how many feelings I endure and pain or strife that might make me want to reconsider later, there are always the good feelings that make feeling all the worthwhile. The most important thing in the world to me right now is to say that I do care. I really do care. And no matter how much I try and deny it and think nothing of it, it will always be the opposite. Sometimes I am afraid to show how much I care. But I do care. And whatever that may matter, there it is. I wish there was a time where I would feel safe to let myself truly feel and not be so afraid of what everyone else might think or their reaction/lack of reaction. I wish I didn't have to be so paranoid and feel so vulnerable and get so nervous all the time. I wish I didn't freak out anymore. I wish I could feel certain and things could be consistant. I went on a writing rampage. I wrote about 3 poems. One was about the rain. What would have made it prettier is if it was raining while I wrote it. Every so often, I could have sworn it was but I wasnt sure because I had my music on. And I sure as hell wasnt going to get up. I wrote this one poem and I keep reading it over and over because the more I read it, the more I remember. And remembering is nice. I woke up better Saturday. I think it was because I had plans and I was excited. It's kind of hard to elaborate though because all I can think about was what I previously wrote. I will say that I had loads of fun at swing street and my favorite part was dancing. I really enjoyed the energy up there and the smiles everywhere...I just felt alive again compared to the night before. The lights were on us, my friends were all around me, and I danced my heart out and smiled sincerely. I hope my thoughts go away. I think too much for my own good. I just wish to be wanted. I wish I knew who to talk to or go to. I wish I could do the things I think about rather that just thinking about them. I wish I knew who to call. Jenny at 9:09 PM Comments: Post a Comment
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