I hate you. I hate your stupid smile. I hate the way you make me smile. I hate the way you hug me. I hate the way you make me laugh. I hate the way you understand me. I hate the way you speak to me. I hate the way you respect me. I hate the way you are always so kind to me even when I don’t deserve it. I hate how you are always here for me. I hate how you trust me. I hate how you are one of my best friends. I hate how you do not speak to me. I hate how you do not like me. I hate how you love me. I hate how the way you love me is not the way I want you to love me.
I hate how you are so passionate about the same things that I am passionate about. I hate how you make me feel. I hate how you make me so nervous. I hate how I can’t talk when I’m with you because I don’t want to say anything stupid. I hate how whenever I see you, I feel like running away because I am so embarrassed of the things that I think sometimes!
Why am I so stupid? How could I ever think that someone like YOU would ever want to be with someone like ME? Why won’t you go away? Why won’t you get out of my head? Why can’t I stop thinking about you? I am bitter. I am jealous. You aren’t mine, why am I worried about this? Why do I feel like this? Why do you make me feel like this!?
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!
I hate the way you make me feel. I really do. I really really do.
I hate that stupid face you make whenever you see me. I hate the way sunglasses look on you. I hate how you are so creative. I hate how you aren’t afraid of anything. I hate how you are so perfect. I hate how you are just so so perfect for me.
I hate how you can’t see that. I hate how you are such an idiot sometimes.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you!
… but I like you… a lot.
I love my sisters.
We had the best first FILA 4 sleepover EVER.
They came last night, slept for like four or five hours, and ate at IHOP this morning. I love them so much! I can’t wait for our next sleepover. 6 years with these girls on November 17, 2011. ♥
So it’s my birthday (November 3rd)
I am now sixteen.
In the morning, I went to the art room and was showered with a bunch of “Happy Birthday!”‘s from some art people. My God-brother, Alex gave me a little Tigger bottle for babies that he got at Rotten Robbie’s. It’s so cute. It doesn’t spill, and it’s filled with apple juice!
Anyways, it felt like any other Thursday, except I had a lot of expectations… You can’t really blame me. People have told me things that they would do for me, but never did so I was ultimately disappointed throughout the day.
During lunch, most of the “friends” that I have/had were singing “Happy Birthday” to another girl whose birthday it was as well. Honestly, if they didn’t care that it was my birthday, why would they make such a huge deal about it? Why would they try to make me feel special and then not even gather everyone in our little group to sing to me? I was so upset…
However, I did get the cutest most creative birthday card ever. My good friend Kristine Medina made me a Stratocaster shaped birthday card! It looks like my Rocky (my arctic white Squier Strat that my parents got me FINALLY baba) except black, different pick-ups, whammy bar, and different headstock. It’s the cutest thing ever though. I love that card. It is now hanging on my wall with the card she gave me Freshman year, Kristine is such a great friend to me.
4th period, Tina surprised me with a slice of cheesecake and cupcakes from Sydney and Stacey. Very very delicious and very sweet of them to bake me food. I honestly felt like I didn’t deserve it, but they insisted I did, so I accepted their gifts. And let me tell you, they were DELICIOUS.
Art was the highlight of my day. I was still upset because of lunch. I waited around twenty minutes and then asked Ms. King if I could use the bathroom. She said yes and I walked slowly, kicking a plastic cup all the way until it got stuck by some bush. Being on your period on your birthday is not the business. I came back into art class, brought my drawing board to our table, went to go get an easel and on my way back to my seat, Ms. King announces, “Okay, so we want to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to the birthday girl, Lyanne!” and so the class starts singing and of course I start crying like an idiot because they are so sweet and so kind to me… Once again, I feel like I didn’t deserve it. Everyone was so confused, because no one knew about what happened to me during lunch. Even Jankley said, “Uhhhh what just happened!?” I was surrounded by my second family, just watching me cry and gasp with these sympathetic looks on their faces. They are all so sweet… I have never felt so much love! My tears weren’t sad tears. I felt safety, security. I felt like I belonged! I feel that feeling each day during art. I feel like art brings us all together.
So Ms. King took me outside. She talked to me, asked me what was wrong, and made me feel so much better. E-Jay came outside, too. He gave me a present. 🙂 A panda hat! Now I have two. Hahaha x) Everything was good. We told some stories, just the three of us at that table outside. We had a few laughs. I felt so comfortable. I felt safe. We went back in, made some art, and smiled.
After our break, Cece went to Rotten Robbie’s and got me another one of those bottles that Alex gave me. This one had Tigger on it. I will start using them everyday.
Ultimately, my birthday was wonderful. There were bad moments, but I am choosing not to think of it as a bad day… even though it was.
My birthday was great. I loved it. I am thankful for the real friends that I have, and I am thankful for the family and art family that I have.
My First Love
Music… Music is my first love. It’s a cruel thing to try to take it away from me.
That’s what my parents have been doing recently.
Yeah, my grades were bad. I had an F and two D’s, but the rest of my classes were A’s. See, even though I did good in my other classes, the D’s and F bombarded their minds and they closed their hearts to any positive reinforcement in my favor.
At the moment, my grades go as follows:
Physics: D (I just turned in some extra credit this past week, so I’m not sure what my grade is if it changed)
Dance: A (more than 100%)
AP English: C (which is actually a B because of AP credits)
US History: A (more than 100%)
Pre-Calculus: A
AP Studio Art: C (B as well)
I’m struggling in Physics, but I’m working my butt off trying to get extra credit, getting help from my peers, and my teacher as well. Ask any of them and they will say that I have improved since the beginning of the year. At this time, I’ve learned to accept that I need to work harder to get my grades up and I am… but taking away music and taking away softball is crossing the line.
See, last year our home was broken into and stripped of all the things close to our hearts. Jewelry, hats, our car, TV, and my guitars and me and my brother’s ukuleles. I lived without a ukulele until November of last year because my grandfather was nice enough to get me one that costed almost $300 for my birthday.
Anyways, I’ve been guitar-less for almost two years. This year I’m am aiming towards getting a Stratocaster. A Squire Strat… because we can’t afford a Fender. Anywho, I’ve been asking my dad to take me to the music store or Guitar Center for so long, but he won’t take me until I get my grades up. I HAVE gotten my grades up. C’s and a D are better than D’s and an F. I am doing so well… I can’t even have a TRIP to the music store. A TRIP. I’m not going to buy anything… I don’t have the money yet.
Lately, I’ve been saving up. I only have $63, but I’m getting there. I am. (The guitar comes with an amplifier and everything else needed. It costs almost $200).
Today my father admitted that the reason why he hasn’t taken me to Guitar Center is because he’s trying to keep me away from music… of all the people out there who would keep anything from me, my FATHER is trying to keep ME away from MUSIC. HE is the reason why I even got into playing instruments or singing or anything that has to do with music and now he wants me to stay away from it because of school? Music is all I have at times like this. What am I supposed to do? Live in a dark cave for the rest of my life? Because without music… without baseball… without softball… without God and those I care about… I am nothing!
So now I am being kept away from what I love most. I am being kept away from my first love. I am being kept away from music.
Because my father has blocked out any good that I try to show him, I am unable to liberate myself from this injustice.
… Someone please save me.
Good music… good good music. What am I supposed to do with good music? I feel like listening isn’t enough. For some reason it just makes my heart beat so fast. How all the instruments are in tune with one another, how the singer always knows just what to sing with the music… every fits. It’s the perfect puzzle. Right now I am listening to “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” by Guns N’ Roses, and this song couldn’t be more amazing.
Good music is perfection.
Haven’t written in a while
It’s been about a month. Baseball just ended and I don’t know what to do with my life once again… 182 days to happiness. 182 days from now is the start of the 2012 baseball season. 182 days…
Giants and Dodgers mini baseball bats!
Giants and Dodgers mini baseball bats! They are the starts of my collection. 🙂 If anyone would like to donate, feel free to! Just kidding.
My goal is to collect one from each team, either from a random dugout store or the one at the yard itself! I prefer the one at the yard.
The Giants one I got at the yard at the Dodgers @ Giants game where they lost by that homer which was the only run in the whole game. (July 20, 2011) Kind of a shitty game, lol. They would’ve swept ‘em, but wuheva.
The Dodgers one I got at the dugout at City Walk this weekend. (September 4, 2011) (My dad wouldn’t stop chanting, “LET’S GO GIANTS… oops, I mean DODGERS!!” LOL. Quietly of course.) I felt like I didn’t belong there, but it was for the sake of my collection! My brother bought a Dodger dog tag ‘cause he’s always wanted one (not a Dodgers one though, lol) but he said it was “for a good cause” because they’re bankrupt. So sweet, my brother.
So yeah! Those are the stories to the start of my mini baseball bat collection! 🙂
The Death of a Bug
Woolf and Petrunkevitch have two very different pieces and two very different styles of writing. Both are very appealing to readers, and have similarites. Not in the writing styles, but in the basic story themes instead. Woolf’s story of a moth’s natural death is vague in many ways, but one stands out more than others: Woolf’s views on life, death, and the way others live their lives. Petrunkevitch’s “The Spider and the Wasp” is straightforward and is told as a short story of the murder of a tarantula by a tiny wasp. It is not vague at all, it is clean and thorough writing. Both stories are interesting reads and special in their own way, but original and unique themselves.
Alexander Petrunkevitch’s “The Spider and the Wasp” tells of a story of a tarantula’s untimely death. It is natural, yes, because this is how the chain of life works. Out here, it is do or die. Out here, it is eat or be eaten. Out here, it is kill or be killed. Out here, it isthe survival of the fittest, and the tarantula just was not the fittest to live. The wasp stings the tarantula violently, and the tarantula seems to accept death and end the struggle by simply staying put and not fighting for its life. The wasp kills the tarantula and lays her egg in the corpse. It’s not very vague, not like “The Death of a Moth” by Virginia Woolf, which is far more complicated, but this story is straightforward and easy to understand. It is clear, and it is not complicated. Also, it is very graphic. The message here is very clear: As one life ends, another beings.
On the other hand, Virginia Woolf’s story has the same concept of a bug dying, but is much more vague and has a deeper meaning. Virginia Woolf’s story, “The Death of a Moth” tells of a story of a moth’s natural death. Woolf pities the moth because it possesses a life not worth living. The moth is so little that it is considered as an insignificant, unimportant creature in this world and in this society. Woolf compares this tiny, insignificant moth to human beings in general. She believed that people were wasting their lives and not living their lives to the fullest. She believed that humans take their lives for granted everyday when doing the same activities such as going to work or school each day instead of traveling and seeing the world. She believed that people did not embrace their lives enough or love their lives enough. (What does she know?)
When the moth was dying, it fought for its life. Woolf said that the moth fighting for its life during death was ironic, as if to ask, why fight for your life when you are not living? When the moth has died, Woolf explains that the moth has lived a wasted life. The moth fought for its life until the end, at the end, and has escaped the torture and agony of the world today. This piece foreshadows Woolf’s suicide. She sees death as an escape from the modern world and a passageway to peace.
I fully understand her concept, however, my only problem with it is why did she even care about the way others lived their lives? Her piece portrays her attitude towards humanity and her feeling of pity towards people she didn’t even know. She based all her facts on simply that small moth and the farmers working outside. If what people do (or what moths do) pleases them, why stop them? In fact, why stop yourself? Just do what you want to do and don’t worry about other people. They are insignificant in your life.
Petrunkevitch and Woolf’s pieces have a few basic similarities: the death of an insect, the struggle to live, and how life is taken for granted. The ways that they were portrayed are very different, but each writer has shown their perspectives on life and death and the struggle to keep going. Both writers show that life and death aren’t all that different, it just depends on the way you see them and whether or not you want to embrace one or the other or even both. Life and death are not that different from each other. They are simply just natural things in life that each living creature must overcome.
Some people would look at the white weathered sky and say,
“Gross. It’s so ugly today. Where’s the sun!?”
But I, on the other hand, would find it beautiful. Each day is given to you as a blessing. You cannot determine whether or not the day is beautiful simply by your first impression of the sky. Give it a few hours. Maybe your beloved sun will come out shining brightly at you. But the sun does not make the day beautiful. You control whether or not today is a good day. The bottom line is: You have to make it a beautiful day.
Hello, stress.
Giants games are stressful, school is going to be stressful, boys are stressful, the internet is stressful, everything will stress me out. The only thing I can do or want to do is sit in my room with my back on my bed and my legs up against my wall, listening to music, glove in my hand, baseball in the other, throw it up, and catch it. But I have so much homework. ):
lyanneteopaco 
