Just Some Things.., not sure if this goes in this topic...

i worked on this for a couple of hours.
got my mind to dust of the cob webs.
not sure if i'm putting it in the right spot though.



Sorry if you get lost.
of confused.
a lot probably won't make sense.
it's just the way I think.
>.<
and I left things out.
In some places.
And I cba to read through it all and try to fix it.
Sorry.







I do not believe in God. I do, however, believe in a Heaven, and a Hell. Logically, they can both exist, without Jesus Christ and Lucifer.
I argue with people quite often about God, and the creation of the universe. And up until a lately, I denied the existence of a Heaven, or a Hell. Souls, I do not believe in. But I do think your thought process continues after death. There are many examples that a god could exist, but many that it could not. One, which I’ve discovered very recently, is that if God was reincarnated, on Easter, why isn’t it a set date? Why is it a Sunday? It doesn’t make sense. That is like saying that my birthday is on the third Thursday of May. No, that’s not right, I was born on the twenty-forth, and the day of the week changes, not the date.
Life is a very interesting concept, and to believe that God is watching over you is a false hope. Generally, yes, Christians are happier with their lives, but that’s because they are optimistic that God will help them. I, on the other hand, am not religious. I had a very dark period a short while ago, of depression, and suicidal thoughts, letters, and threats. I cut myself, pretty often. I still remember those nights, how it smelled, how I hurt inside… Certain scents make me cry now, because I remember those nights, a little to well. I have thrown away the razor, tossed out the candles that I smelled, and deleted those love letters… I hope that one day I will be able to get over it, but I can’t. I think that every body will have a period in their lives when they feel like dying, and like they don’t need to be around; and that’s just how it is. It’s usually what you would call a mid-life crisis. Mine, on the other hand, was in my teenage years. And it doesn’t compare too well to the mid-life crisis scenarios, but I still think that everybody has their problems, and will have different ways of coping with it… violent, verbal, stupid, inconspicuous, ways.
A piece of advice would be, to not try to put the people the hurt you on a guilt trip. They won’t be nice to you. They will hurt you more, sometimes without realizing it, but they will, and it won’t help you at all. You always say that they’ll never do it again, but they will. They don’t give a shit about you anymore… generally. The people that I have hurt, have hurt me, either before or after my time, but they still have, none-the-less. I feel bad for hurting them, and most of those people, I still care about, although that doesn’t mean anything to them. One person, in particular… I try to be friendly with him… but he hurt me worse than anybody could; he is the only person that can make me cry… and it seems to me like he uses that ability, whenever given the chance. My solution? Don’t give him the chance.
I cried when my older brother was in the hospital, right after nearly dying, then being diagnosed with diabetes. And I didn’t cry for months after that… But one day… This boy… he made me cry, again. I held in my tears, over really big, painful things; but he told me about a girl that he liked, and was going to be his girlfriend… how did that hurt me so much? I know that I like him, a lot… and that I’m the jealous type… But we don’t have love… Do we?
When I was a little girl; maybe three or four years old, I was really cute. But by third grade, I had glasses, full out, red faced, acne, and I was chubby. I was made fun of, and had no friends. Until middle school, I could’ve listed my friends… and all of the people insane enough to befriend me, moved away. In fifth and sixth grade, I was moderately depressed. I had not friends, and my family was pretty much broken. My parents were fighting every day, and my brothers hated me. I wrote sad songs and poetry… rather… I tried to. I found them a short while ago, and they weren’t very good. Just sad words put together, not even in full sentences.
Every year I will look back on the one before, and think “Whoa, I am so much better now.” So now, I am better than I was last year. And next year, I will be better than the last.
Sixth grade was the beginning of my transformation… from Marissa Hansen, my social identity, to who I am now. Now, I am still known as Marissa, but I am not the same person that I was three years ago. Yes, in the fall of two-thousand and four, I was still, the short, fat, red faced, unsanitary person that I am now. Annoying, with glasses, and clinging onto my cousin Chelsea, whom I was attending school with. Until that point, I had been going to school a few blocks away from my house. But I think my mom somehow realized how hard it was for me to make friends, and put mew in a school in the next town, where I already knew a few people.
All year, I had a crush on the same boy, and practically stalked him. I still know a lot about him, but I’m sure that he has changed, quite a bit. It breaks my heart that he was one of my best friends that summer after I went to school with him, but I wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, at school, at least. WE tried to hang out sometimes, and we talked a lot, on instant messenger. I would visit him at his house sometimes when I would take the forty-five minute bike ride to visit my grandparents and cousins. He and I argued a lot though. We stopped talking… I’m not sure why, and I’m not quite sure when, but during seventh grade, I did speak with him, but now, I don’t even have him on my instant messenger contacts list. I have him in my mobile phone directory, and I know his email address, but we don’t communicate.
It’s kind of sad when relationships end. Not just the boyfriend, girlfriend thing… But marriage, friendships, deaths, and even when family, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, moms and dads… stop talking. And its worse when the relationships end in a bad way and people are bitter for the rest of their lives.
One of the funniest things I’ve heard lately was something like: Why do we keep bumming into our exes after we break up with them? Can’t they just die when we’re done with them? (“Dirty Love”). I laughed, but thinking about that seriously, I wonder why people try to cause grief to the people that they do not ‘love’ anymore.
But love itself is an endless book, that cannot ever be written. Love, is one of those things, that one can write about, but never express what they’re really thinking about. Feelings are not always words. Saying you are angry, is just words, there is no way to describe the feeling that you have, without using another word for it… I know hat I have loved people. I love my family, unconditionally, as my friends. I have loved, two boys, in my life time. But I have yet to be in love. I think there is a difference, that I cannot explain, as I cannot explain how it feels to be in love without using synonyms for it, or the words “good,” and “happy.” Normally, I guess people would describe it as, joyous, painful, and overwhelming, but to somebody that’s never loved before, they wouldn’t really know. That’s not how it really is. I wouldn’t know how it feels to be in love though. It has yet to happen to me. As well as kissing a boy, having a boyfriend, or holding hands with a boy, that wasn’t just a friend, while we were playing red rover. I think somebody can only be in love, once. I don’t believe in soul mate, but that’s because I don’t believe that there are such a thing as souls. But the idea, that there is one person out there for everyone, yes, I firmly believe that.
One thing, that I find myself pondering about, quite often, is this: How am I? How did I get here? What am I doing here? Am I even... real? This is one of those things that I cannot explain, other than in those words. I can’t really say… but I wonder, how can I breathe, walk, talk, eat, drink, sleep, sit, stand, smile, cry… all these things… what gave me that ability? I don’t believe in a God, but other people say that God, or some higher power, allow us to do these things. But that doesn’t make sense. What created God, if s/he created us? I know that things don’t always have to make sense, but I do everything with logic, and even the idea that we just appeared, doesn’t make sense, I wonder, if we are even real. And if we are just… nothings, and simply, thinking that we are human, and superior to other species… The Adam and Eve story does not mix well with dinosaurs to me… If the dinosaurs, which we have proof of existence, were here before humans, how could Adam have been here, when the Earth was first created? And for people that do not believe in evolution, it makes a hell of a lot more sense than a lot of the things that are taught in Sunday school. I think that that is what may have happened, but I cannot, and will not, ever be sure.
Just the human thought process is interesting. What makes do what we do? The phrase “I can resist anything, but temptation,” it humorous, but it is an oxymoron, in my opinion. So I am resisting from throwing something at some one’s face, but I cannot resist temptation, and I am tempted to throw it, so I do anyways? Doesn’t quite make sense… Most of the things that we do, we do them, in order to stay alive. When we are thirsty, we drink; when we are hungry, we eat; when we are being hurt, we defend ourselves… normally.
I like to argue, and I like to win the arguments, but really, there is no winning, ever. Like is like a game of tic-tac-toe, to me. If both players are paying attention, nobody wins. Which brings me to another thing; do you feel like if you don’t win, you have lost? I do. And it’s mostly right, if you have not won, then you have no lost, no, but would you ever feel accomplished? Maybe, but I wouldn’t.

This is rather interesting… actually… I started this out talking about my life, and ended up talking about what I actually think about.
Guess there will be more to come later.
I’m off to go search for “Donnie Darko” are the library.
Ciao.

Wow that was a pretty emotional story/narrative you're making there. I really can relate to a lot of the stuff about life and sort of purpose/religion and all. I dont know what to beleive sometimes, stuff goes by too fast and I dont know what to think about it a lot of times or what to do when it happens. I end up spending a lot of time just wasting time thinking about this stuff, or just life and all. Crazy yeh, but thats me spelled in too many ways.

Anyways, its good writing, very insightful. If you have any more stuff later Ill read it.

I often think about the phrase “everything happens for a reason,” because, it’s true. And the thing about regrets, is that, for the most part, our lives are great. Mine is, for sure; I may get yelled at for the stupidest things, and have the most ridiculous curfews and rules in my house, but it could be worse and (my hand is cramping), if you would have changed one thing, your life could be so much different. For instance… Some times I wish that I would have never met the person that makes me cry… But he has changed me, a lot. He is the only person that can make me cry, and if I’d never met him, more people, than just him, can make me cry, and crying shows weakness; and I don’t think there’s the possibility that if I’d never met him, I wouldn’t have nobody enabled to make me cry; because he hurt me, worse than I ever have hurt before (which is saying that I have a pretty good life, because you could say that he didn’t hurt me too badly), and I’ve become much stronger, emotionally, therefore, making it so that it’s harder to make me cry, but ‘with everything good, comes great sorrow.’ It’s harder for me to smile, and laugh than it was in April of two-thousand and six; but maybe that reflects how serious I am, over the silly games that I play with my life.
I cannot stand ninety-four percent of the people that populate the world. I do not like them, especially the stupid ones. When people try to piss me off, it works, and once you’re on my shit list, that’s where you will stay. There are people that I talk to, and those people are called me friends, or my acquaintances, and I talk to them, because they make me smile, or I am being forced to do so. I absolutely hate it when I ask somebody a question, and they ask me stupid ones in return in order for me to get an answer (i.e: I ask, what your favorite color is, you ask me what color you are wearing. Why do I care? You might be wearing your favorite color, but it would have been much easier to just tell me).
You could put in the group with the ‘jealous types’ when it comes to relationships. I am very territorial, therefore, incapable of carrying out a relationship. The only two people that I have ever dated, don’t even count, because on lived over seas, and the other lived on the other side of the country, and doesn’t really care for me. I can see why people don’t like me, and I can understand why they would not want to be in a relationship with me, but I don’t understand why people lie to me. Any liar, and any cheater, is on my shit list. I guess you could say that everybody lies, but when I say ‘liar,’ I’m talking about the people that tell black lies, not white ones, every day; or the people that keep things hidden, and then when they are found out, they didn’t tell anybody the truth, people found out themselves. These people are my least favorite. I still associate with a couple of these people, and I love them dearly, like all of my friends, but I still have bitter feelings every now and then.
Another thing is… I am very protective over the people that I love. That is one of the reasons that I am a jealous person. If I love somebody (speaking of romance now), I am trying my best to treat them right, and when it feels like somebody else will take them away from me, I feel like they will not be treated well. I know that I am not really a good person, and that I probably never really treated the two people that I have loved like that before the way that they should have, because they were both sweethearts, and still are, but they both ran away from me, and they’re both hiding. I have to admit that I love somebody, right now, and it breaks my heart when he tells me about his love life… that doesn’t involve me. It made me cry… It showed weakness. It bothers me that my weakest point is a boy; an ignorant boy that hates me. And he’ll probably get mad at me for calling him ignorant, but he gets mad at me all the time… that also makes me cry; but I’m used to it.
Thomas Jefferson was part of my least favorite part of history. I never liked learning about the founding and growing of America (ancient history, though, I’m very into that), but maybe it was just because of the way my eighth grade history taught me. I liked the style though… I prefer to just be taught, and then given an assignment. No homework, no group work, no class activities, no “sharing with the class.” But there is something… did you know that according to the Constitution, that every American is guaranteed the right to pursue happiness? Not guaranteed happiness, but the right to pursue it.
Stress, plays a big role in my life. It consumes me and often makes me angry. When I’m stressed, I clench my teeth, I scream, and I hold my hands tightly in fists. This is me getting angry. I don’t know why I’m stuck with so much responsibility when I’m only fourteen, and I don’t know why I had it when I was thirteen, but I do, and it’s just part of life right now. I’m Mom, now, to my younger brother, but not just any mom, I’m the mom that you can backtalk and get away with, and the mom that you can hit, and still get to go play, and better yet, I’m the mom that gets in trouble for yelling at you, period. To be honest, I am a good hearted person, no matter how bitchy I am, and I will try to give people what they want, whenever I can, but this boy… draws the line, and steps over. I actually have gray hair; and my parents see them, then tell me to stop worrying about things, but still don’t believe that he is the main source of my stress! There is one other person, though. The one that makes me cry, that I keep bringing up, but he only does, when he lies, which isn’t very often anymore, because I don’t get to talk to him anymore. My mother asks me why I like talking to him, and I have a couple reasons, but the most important is that he makes me happy. I’m not sure why, but he does. So does my baby, Daunte, he might only be a sixteen months old, but he makes me happy, he makes me smile. He can’t break my heart, and I guess they are different types of ‘happy,’ but I’m smiling, all the same, so it doesn’t really make a difference, if I don’t want it too.
Heartbreak, though, is like love, a story of it’s own, and something every one will experience. I used to think that I was invincible, and the person that did break my heart, I didn’t see it coming; I didn’t think that we was capable of ripping hearts apart… more than just mine. The day it happened, I cried, all afternoon, and all night. It would’ve, normally been a happy day. February fifteenth, two-thousand and seven, he signed onto his msn, instant messenger, and I was already crying, because I already knew it was coming. Just a few minutes before, I found proof of something that tore my heart out and put it in out in the open for ambush. He seemed happy enough, which worried me… How could he pretend like nothing was wrong? “I got your card today! :D” Great… Asked him I he liked it, tying to figure out what to say. And I’m not even sure about what led to it, but I told him, that I knew he was still in love with somebody… And I had proof. He denied it, making it worse, and that was one pretty damn dramatic day. I fought with him.. and her… I guess these days are better, but it still comes up a lot… between him and I, which is uncomfortable, because I still love him, and it hurts, even though I know he doesn’t love me back… it’s been over a year since I first developed a crush on him, and the entire time I’ve wondered how he felt… and I always knew that something was wrong… I probably should have picked up when he called me by her name several time, huh? I guess I just fucked up, but that’s too bad, and I guess there’s always a lesson to be learned, no matter how screwed up the basic plan is…
There is one song, that I can’t listen to, a lot of them remind me of him, but I’m pretty tough, I think, but this one song, I cannot stand to listen to; and when people turn it on and laugh at me for getting angry at them, and simply watch me trying to not cry, it pisses me off, really bad. I don’t really feel the great need to say what song it is, because it’s really stupid, that it’s the particular song… But, I’ll say it, because I know people will ask me if I don’t. The song, What I’ve Done, by Linkin Park, reminds me of him. I don’t really have any specific reasons, but I have to turn of the radio when I hear it. Another song that I am so sick of that I would murder it if it were a human is Hey There Delilah, by the Plain White Tee’s. It’s annoying, and far too over-played. Music makes me feel good. I usually choose to listen to music that describes how I feel. I have a couple of songs for thinking, one by A Perfect Circle, which I can’t remember the name of right now, and Mad World, by Gary Jules.
One thing to know about me would be, I get very angry, very fast, don’t even start. My dad tells me that I’m on the computer too much, but then asks me about html and java script, and he tells me that he knows how to use the computer and electronics better than me. Good for you, I’m glad that you think that… He asks me to upload pictures to the computer, and email them to him. Maybe next time I’ll be a smart ass and tell hi that he’d better teach me house to use email first.
The first time I got an email address, I got one with me name, at my grandfather’s server. Not Hotmail, or Yahoo, or msn, or Google mail, I want to tell you what it’s called, because it’s kind of funny, but whenever I get an email at that address, my mom gets a copy of it, because she’s rally nosey, which pisses me off. I used the account killerfishy@hotmail.com forever when I was in sixth grade, and that’s how I spoke with the boy that I liked all the time. I still use it on occasion, but mostly, I use the one I got about two years ago, shadowed_heart317@hotmail.com, to match a user name that I had on linkinparkfourms.com, Shadowed Heart. I have about twenty email addresses, and I sometimes check the inactive ones, but by the time I check them, any emails that I would have received will have been deleted, due to the inactive account. My mom being nosey though… is another problem…
I don’t want her to read this, really, because it reveals a lot about how I think, and her getting into my head would be one of the worse things to ever happen to me. I’m not supposed to have a Myspace, online friends, or really even instant messenger, but I think she’s gotten used to the idea that it’s a lot faster and easier to talk to my friends with that then the phone, or in person. But I do prefer talking to people in person, I love getting phone calls, believe me, but I hate having to talk to people on the phone when I couldn’t talk to them in person. There is one person that I do like getting phone calls from, but I try not to ask him to call me because he says that he will try, meaning that he is being nice, but really isn’t going to. I stopped sleeping with my phone on my headboard, and I stopped charging it every night, to make sure that if he called, we could talk for a long time… and yet, even if he did call me, he wouldn’t be able to talk to me for very long, mostly because of cell phone minutes, or other things that he can come up with… But whatever… now I feel bad for talking to badly about him, when really, he’s a great person. Here comes the best part…
Photography is my life. It makes any bad day better. I can appreciate a good picture, but I love it better when I get to take them. I really want my own camera, but I can’t afford one, and I can’t get a job until I am fifteen. I keep asking for one for Christmas and birthdays, but Christmas my parents got us a laptop, and my birthday, they gave me seventy dollars. Most of my pictures are taken in black and white, because I think it makes it look better, and I find that it is the only thing that I think I am really good at, and even then, everybody can take a picture.


Wowie. I've got nearly as much of this, in a few hours, than I do of a novel that I've been working on for several months. :o

It made sense to me (but I've been through some of those things, struggling with suicidal thoughts, vainly 'stalking' a beloved one for seven years then another for two, thinking of myself as totally unlovable, dark thoughts and urges that kept on haunting me year after year triggered by specific types of event, but they got weaker over time as I approached them in the right way). I can't help wondering how much of this is fictional and how much reality...

oO

you're talking about how much fiction life and stuff is, or my writing?

lol.

As in is this piece the start of a story, you venting your personal feelings, frustrations and philosophies, or you wanting to start a discussion on some of these topics?

Gahh...

talking aobut life in general or my writing?

talking about this piece of your writing

...*confused again*

but i'm not gonna ask anymore questions.
:)

There is a line from a song, by Hoobastank, called “What Happened to Us?” It’s near the beginning and it is “I knew it was too good to be true, ‘cos I’m the only one that understands me.” And that could be fact for almost everybody. People say “they know me better than I do,” and that’s not true. Sure, some people could write a book about you, or whatever that phrase was, but they weren’t there for every single one of those dark nights when you were crying and screaming at your pillow, and throwing things at the wall. They weren’t there for your preschool picture, and they weren’t there when you walked two hours home because your bike got two flats in five minutes. They would know most of everything that there is to know about you, but there is more than that just what there is to know.. if that made any sense to anybody but myself at all…
My thinking process doesn’t always click with everyone else, but it works for me, and I guess it doesn’t matter how other people think, as long as the thinking gets done… For instance, the math problem, fifty-three times six. I would multiply six by five, and add a zero on the end, three-hundred, then add three times six, which is eighteen, so the answer would be three-hundred and eighteen, correct? I know that not everybody does things like that, but I do. When subtracting, I do things like thirty-six minus nine, and immediately, I know that the answer, is twenty-seven. But to explain I would have gotten that, would be to say: I have six over thirty, so I take that away, but I have to take away nine, so I would take nine, minus the six that I took, and that gives me three more to take away. Thirty minus three, is twenty-seven. While we’re talking about numbers…
Math is really fun for me, and is my favorite subject in school. I find science, history, and English, interesting, but math is by far… the easiest. I don’t understand how people find it to be so hard… It’s just numbers, and no matter what math class you are in, you’re just building up from kindergarten and first grade. I’m going to be a freshman this fall, and I’ll be taking honors English, biology, and geometry, and my friends that just finished pre-algebra, and are still lost, tell me that I’m crazy, being so fascinated with math, and in seventh grade, when they started me in Math 7, because they didn’t get any of my records from sixth grade, where I got the Presidential Award, and perfect grades… the teacher for that class, hates me. After the first week of school, he was still explaining multiplication with M&Ms (I’m not kidding), and I told him that that class was to easy for me, but he gave me one of the dirtiest looks that I’ve even received and told me that I didn’t pass the test that we took on the second day of school. I didn’t get that, because in sixth grade, I started in the third book, of twelve, in a math activity we did in school, that was supposed to last all year long; when everybody else was (on average) starting in the seventh book, according to a test that we took… (book three was beginning multiplication, and book seven was beginning division), I didn’t understand division, because in fourth grade, when we learned it, I wasn’t paying attention, I still remember what I was actually thinking about, but I don’t really want to say (it wasn’t anything dirty! But it was really stupid), but by November, I was finished with all twelve books, and I was in the pre-algebra books… I was in the pre-algebra books... so why was I started lower than that the year after? I talked to the office, and they told me that I actually did test out of that class, and my scores were way above average. After a couple of weeks in pre-algebra, I decided that that class was too easy as well, but they told me that I’d better not push it and try Algebra, after a month of school was already over. I still think I should’ve started in Algebra, but I guess I’m fine were I’m at… I pretty much got a year of the easiest math class ever.
As for English… I’m so nerdy… I’ve argued with people about silly grammatical errors, such as capitalizing a pronoun like mom, dad, grandma, aunt, etc. when being used in the place of the name, without being possessed… I couldn’t really explain that one, but after being backed up, I won the argument. I’ve argued about the placement of a coma, the spelling of a letter, and the abbreviation for certain words. Basically, I love learning, and applying the knowledge that I get to situations and things that happen in my life. Like right now, I’m writing all of this, which I really… nothing, but I’m writing it because I know which words mean what I’m trying to say, I know how to type, I know how to spell correctly (for the most part), and I understand basic sentence structure. As for creativity… Don’t give me more than three out of ten for that. The novel that I’m at a dead end with right now, takes place in Utah, here, where I live, because I’m not very creative, and can’t really describe any other place without books, and the internet. I’ve visited all but on of the United Stated, west of Kansas, and I’ve been to Hawaii, Florida, North and South Carolina, and I was in Georgia during a lay over on the way to Florida four years ago, although that doesn’t actually count… And I’m sure that I’ve been to a few more, that I just can’t think of now.
I love to travel though, camping, is not really what I’m talking about, because I don’t care for it, but I do love to be in new places and to see new things and people. I’m hoping to go to Maine soon with my mom, and Europe before I get married and have kids, mainly because I have so many friends there, and it seems so exciting. I’m planning on going to the UK, Bolton, or Brighton, almost everybody that I told my plans for Manchester too told me that there was no chance that I’d like it there, so I guess that’s no longer a destination point. I have almost five dollars for my funding so far. Go me!

short addition:
Long Distance Relationships:
This is a very controversial subject… I know that people that are in the relationship are all for it, and tell other people that they just don’t understand, and they get upset when people try to talk some sense into them.
I don’t know which side to be on. I’m not completely innocent, and I’ve been in two of those relationships, and neither of them worked out very well. The first one, ended just like any other break up, but the second one ended, began, ended, began, ended and began again. It’s finally completely over, though. I can’t be sure that it will be a good over, or a bad one. At the moment, it’s kind of both; I don’t even know how he feels. I don’t trust him at all, and he seems confused, but he should know what’s going on. I hope that he won’t get entirely too offended, but we’ve had the whole end-of-the relationship thing happen three times, and it’s been his fault every time. I don’t think it’s necessary to name any specific reasons, though.
But on the other hand, I just read a very touching email from one of my friends. I’ve known her since pre-k, and I know a lot about her; she’s very sensitive, and very gullible... The email was a conversation that her and her (long distance) boyfriends had early today, and he said that he loved her and hated that everybody else was against their relationship. And when she got upset and told me about that, I told her that I thought it was a bad idea too. And she got offended (sensitive!), but that’s fine. She has actually been the city that he lives in several times before, and after reading the email, I did approve of him. But I have trouble trusting teenage males, they’ve screwed me over too many times. Today my cousin asked me a very specific question: “Do you trust any boys? Or any online boys at all?” I told him that I didn’t trust any boys at all, but I did trust two MEN that I knew online (Ben and Andrew: both 18+ years!). Anyways… So as far as being okay with her dating him, I don’t know, and I know that it’s none of my business, so I’ll try not to get too into.
So, I might add to this later, but it’s 02:22, and I’m tired.