Alex shared this with me.
And I like eeeet.I am sooo the dude in the clothes.
Well, If I was a dude.
Er...
I'm the girl! In the clothes!
I've talked about how upset I am that high school just flew by, and how I regretted not getting all of the experiences I wanted out of it...but, now that I think about it, I have something really great to look back on. I never gave in. Ever.
I was always 100% me :) Some people may say that this is the reason I didn't have alot of friends...and they could be right....but I believe it's the reason I'm happy. Which totally beats having alot of friends in high school.
Yeaah.
On Saturday, January 31, 2009 at 8:17 PM
I've got my arms wide open for the summertime.
Today, as I was contemplating what to write for my second blog post on Zinch, I took as nasty spill down the stairs. This incident has led me to a conclusion: I hate this house. The way my butt is feeling right now automatically gives me a free pass to use the world "hate" and not feel bad about it.Fortunately, I didn't topple down in some crazy tumbling fashion and land on my neck. I slipped, I slid, I nearly broke my ass. Those stairs are ridiculous and you have to step sideways on them because they're too small to fit your whole foot on. Silly me, I forgot to walk sideways. Ugg.
Also-- I have to live for, wait--I DONT KNOW HOW LONG, with those horrible white walls and their sponged on blue paint. And the prickly plaster effect which I so dearly hate. Dad is putting up dry wall before I paint. This is good because 1.) It'll be easier to paint over 2.) The room will stay warmer and 3.)I hate the prickly plaster effect. But, on the down side, my room is hideous and I have nowhere to put anything nor do I hold the desire to even begin unpacking. I'll be living out of boxes for the next few weeks.
This house is cold--the gillion heaters are useless.
The upstairs is hideous--it's staying that way for awhile.
The stairs tried to kill me--they will continue to do this.
Just keep in mind folks,
bigger isn't always better.
at 9:12 AM
oh, playlist
These songs are are 100% certified to calm me down, and certain to produce imagination-spurred creations. These are the songs I write to -- If you opened one of my journals, this music would flood the room. If you were to pull my headphones out of my ears on a stressful day, these songs would come to life in your hands. Do enjoy.On Friday, January 30, 2009 at 11:40 AM
Hello,
My name is Tammy and I am a Zinch blogger!xD
Chyeah.
On Saturday, January 24, 2009 at 10:46 PM
You can't hear me sing.
BecauseBecause I've fell again
I've failed again.
And we walk
through empty streets
just poisioning,
with every footfall.
And we scream
hollow words
from rooftops,
but nobody hears.
And there'll be no impressions
left in the snow
no matter how many angels we sweep.
And there'll be no writings
on the wall
no matter how hard we push.
No complicated knots
to be unraveled
no matter how we intertwine.
Is simplicity enough to save a heart?
But wait.
just wait,
wait,
wait.
Can you hear that?
Can you feel this?
It's just la - la - la.
This music will tear us apart.
So I sing,
and whisper in your ear.
It's just la - la - la.
And they can hear me screaming from the rooftops.
My words bring meaning to the world.
at 10:46 PM
Cover your eyes.
I breathe.In, out
In, out
dreams unfurl from my lips.
I will shower you in stars.
I see.
In the dark,
and they dance for me.
Prancing away,
away from the light.
I will envelope you in my soul.
I dream.
toss, turn
toss, turn
Silent screams,
never to be heard in a waking world.
I will bring you to a consciousness you never knew.
I speak.
echoes reverberating,
bouncing from cracked walls.
These songs are so sweet
I will pull you into a daze of harmony
I weep.
drip, drip
drip, drip
And the dust reforms,
beauty erupts.
I will heal you with these tears.
Come with me.
Lets fly.
at 9:40 PM
Zinch writer to be?
Perhaps, by the end of the week, I can take off that question mark.A few blogs ago I advertised Zinch.com-- I still praise this site for being unique, original, and helpful. And, I still believe that everyone should join it (Here, I'll make it easy, click THIS!). This site, of course, has a blog. Though my blogs here are completely ridiculous and show no real writing talent at all, I am very passionate about writing. I'm just not always sure what to write about and more often that not, I find myself struggling with time management--good work takes time, and I don't seem to have alot of free time lately. However, I applied to be one of twenty new writers that the Zinch administration is installing in their blogs. I was to provide a writing sample, my Zinch username, links to things such as my myspace and blog, and any other information I felt neccessary to provide. For my writing sample, I chose the opening pages of the 2007-2008 Cactus aka - Marion High School's yearbook. I figured that -- considering it had already been published and viewed by others, and since I had gotten alot of positive feedback on it-- it would be the perfect writing sample to provide. And, on my "other information" section, I basically describd why I am so passionate about writing. I did not get my hopes up though. I was absolutely positive that I would not be chosen. I mean, there are thousands of brilliant writers out there...and I'm sure that people would are much better writers than I applied as well. I was surprised--and quite pleased--When I recieved an e-mail from Mick, the founder of the site, congratulating me on making it to the final round. Out of 500+ students that applied, I was chosen to be part of the 120 students that advanced to the finals. So what do I have to do to make it the top 20? Oh, just write an amazing blog about absolutely anything that I want to prove that I am Zinch Writer material. Doesn't sound too hard, eh? The only problem is...I have no idea what to write about!
So, I need some help. Give me ideas, give me inspiration, give me something. I just need one tiny little thread of something to spark my imagination--then I can get the fire going.
I want this so, so bad. I am absolutely positive that writing for this site will increase my chances for getting another scholarship--which I desperately need if I'm going through veterinary school. And besides, I would love to share my passion with the world...are at least the small fragment of the world that resides at Zinch.
On Tuesday, January 20, 2009 at 6:51 PM
"It was just a dream. Breathe, breathe."
There was only darkness, with small wirey lights trickling across the cloth like tinkering spider legs. Faster and faster they went, stretching themselves into a web and bouncing around until they formed one solid block, shining into my eyes. It was just a small ball at first, it's edges fuzzing against the pitch black behind it; I reached out for it. My fingertips barely brushed it's warmth before it exploded all around me, and I was drenched in white light. The force hit me like a wave, my hair blowing behind me, I put up my arms up to shield my face and screamed as the loud echoing banged against my ears.I jerked foward, out of my sleep with the seat belt cutting into my neck and pulling me back toward the seat. The light wasnt gone, it was right there in my eyes, and the echoing sound was still screeching all around me. The sounds of a horn and the glowing headlights barely came in focus before I felt weight of the semi slamming into the car. Everything disappeared except for the sounds around me; Matt yelling, the crunching of flying glass, the screeching of metal on metal, and the thudding of the car banging into the ground again and again as it toppled down the hill.
On Sunday, January 18, 2009 at 7:38 PM
sleep walking, dream talking.
It's amazing how some songs strike up a memory so clearly, that it takes my breath away. I've been told that sometimes, when a person goes through a stressful/traumatizing ordeal, that their brain blocks it out; When things are too hard to deal with, erasing them may be the only option that seems available. Though I was young when my mama died, her death seems to be the core of alot of problems that I deal with. My family has fallen apart, my brother is a rebel and is leading himself into trouble, my parents aren't there for me to talk to as much as I wish they were, I'm always scared/worried, I cannot accept happiness for what it truly is....the list goes on and on. I cannot muster up the energy to desribe each and every one of these problems and then explain how they relate to my mama's death; nor do I wish to. I don't get too personal with these things. I feel like letting everything out, means that I will have nothing left to hold onto. There are just some things that are better left unsaid. I suppose that's what my brain has assumed as well. I'm remembering alot of things lately...things that I somehow just KNOW are true. It's strange because, none of them are really traumatic, they just happened during a traumatic period in my life. Is it possible that I went through that year doing things that I didn't really know I was doing? Is it possible that I buried myself that deep inside my own head, that I was capable of forgetting things that I was doing?When I really think about it, I realize that it is very possible. I've been hiding away inside my own head for a very long time. I'm not very social and I don't do very well with physical self-expression. I am a thinker---and only a very rational do-er. I mull over absolutely everything and think everything through. Hence the reason I NEVER get in trouble (other than being grounded for petty things. This is too deep to get into). Sometimes living in my own head is good, sometimes it's bad. I think some of you may know why.
On another note,
my dreams are becoming more vivi and even stranger than before. I have been sleeping for at least 11 hours at a time, dreaming. Somehow, I just don't think that this is normal. The nightmares aren't as bad anymore---I don't have them as frequently as I used to...but that doesn't stop the dreams from being weird. They're just so real. It's insane, I can't quit thinking about it. As soon as my head hits a pillow, I fall right into a dream that runs right up to the point that I open my eyes. I constantly fall back asleep even when I am begging myself to wake up. I really don't know what's going on with my body, or my mind. It's frustrating...yet alluring. It's like all the dreams are related---a mystery, or a puzzle waiting to be solved. I don't have the time to solve it though...I don't even have the time that I'm using to sleep. I've got so much that needs to be done in the real world.
On Wednesday, January 14, 2009 at 11:42 AM
Happy Ending.
I will never write another blog about him. Not ever.This is over now.
:)
On Saturday, January 3, 2009 at 8:40 PM
The freaking vibe. Does. Not. Exist.
"I am 18. I am legal."I'm sick of all these creep-o's thinking it is necessary to speak to me and say weird things about how cute I am and how we should meet up in ohio because they live in freaking georgia or some dumb bullcrap like that. Being 18 for a week doesn't mean that I plan on dating 25 year olds. I am still a damn child, and I will be for quite some time. Just because there are some trashy 16 year olds dating 27 year olds, doesn't mean that I plan on doing the same thing because I am now a legal adult.
And LEGAL? My dad will shoot you. Back off. I am not LEGAL, I am not a piece of ass, I am a girl that holds no interest in having sex just because some law says she can. Forget that; I'm not even a girl, I am a lady. I have morals. I have standards. I am Tammy Hall; the goody-two-shoes, honor roll, never-gets-in-trouble, sweetheart. I don't plan on making any changes--at least not drastic ones. This is not girls gone wild, it's myspace. Go find someone to harrass in person, instead of tapping little compliments out on your keyboards hoping that you will win someone over with them. And as for the creeps that keep eyeing me and trying to say stuff to me when I'm out in public---I look like I'm 16! Go awayyy.
I also wish people would stop telling me that I should take all these things as compliments. If a guy around my age told me I was pretty, I would take that as a compliment. But when a 25 year old tells me I'm hott and we should hook up sometime, that makes me want to vomit. Maybe I'm just different than other girls.
But I deserve to be treated with respect, and be able to live my life without feeling the need to hide myself under baggy clothes and tangled hair.
On Thursday, January 1, 2009 at 6:13 PM
Leave your thoughts here.
By title
Alex shared this with me.
I've got my arms wide open for the summertime.
oh, playlist
Hello,
You can't hear me sing.
Cover your eyes.
Zinch writer to be?
"It was just a dream. Breathe, breathe."
sleep walking, dream talking.
Happy Ending.
The freaking vibe. Does. Not. Exist.
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