Last time I felt dead, I was in a routine. It was at work. Target. I felt really sick, kind of like last spring when I had mono and pneumonia and my doctor tried to tell me for two weeks that I had herpes, where I couldn't see except for tunnel vision and I heard like I had cotton stuffed in my ears. I could only hear myself talking, low and hollow, because my voice rattled around in my head...

ugh. Frustrations and stress tonight.First, the band Hollywood Lies is breaking up. If you haven't heard of them, they're a pretty good band and really nice guys (I'd say Down and Dirty is their best song, although Secrets is pretty good too). One of my friends, who they know because she was one of their first fans, just turned 18 two weeks ago and they came to visit her and wish her happy...

I feel like I'm stringing him on. He's a nice guy, but I don't like him like he likes me. I feel absolutely no motivation to make this relationship work except for the fact that I don't want to hurt him. But I'm willing to try. We don't act any differently—he's still sweet, I'm still abusive, just like when we were only friends—except now he stands really close and walks me to my lockers. I'm...

So we had a lockdown drill today. I'm in study hall, so there is an entire wall of windows opening onto a commons-type area. It's interesting because I've always wondered about what administration does during these things. I'm facing the windows, so I was the first to see the police squad and drug dogs. Seriously, there are like 15 guys and at least five dogs. And, of course, everyone runs to the...

We’re reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath in English. I don’t know if it’s a good book because I can relate to it and understand it, having gone through a lot of the same emotions as Ester, or if I relate to it because it is a good book. But I’m getting worried about how much it is reminding me of my past. I don’t want to go back to that dark place. I’m starting to feel dead again....

Poetry contest? I know, crazy stuff. But I need a poem.It's for a story I'm writing, and my inspiration fairy took off a while ago, so I'm pretty much stuck. I will be using the poem in a story, but the winner will receive all credit for the poem and emmense amounts of gratitude from me. I haven't decided on any other awards yet. Maybe up to the choice of the winner? -.-If you are interested in...

I'm considering converting to buddhism. I guess it's not really a conversion, because I don't really follow any religion to begin with, and I guess I already have adopted it whether or not a made a conscious choice to do so. I was reading this book Girlosophy by Anthea Paul and realized that a lot of the principles it contains that I agree with are principles of buddhism. Since these ideas have...

So for our school yearbook all of the seniors have to pick a quote to go with their pictures. I have a whole bunch of potential senior quotes I've collected this summer and I need help narrowing them down to pick one. Here goes: (Brace yourself...there are a lot. I'm very indecisive)1. I will seek my way again... but the goal is in my heart. -Marcel Proust2. Boldness rewards those who know how to...

OH NO! Dun, dun, dun! It's the end of the world!(know why?)Cuz, I got a pair of skinny jeans.Apparently now I'm as "emo" as they come (so saysthe idiot my brother). Either that, so I'm a complete and total slut.And on top of that, my parents are freaking out because god forbid they have a few rips in them. My dad started yelling about how I had to take them back to the store NOW! and blah, blah,...

GUYS!!! I know I haven't been here for a while but all my files crashed and then I was on vacation and then I was at camp. But I decided to come back for just a bit cuz this is really important!I just got a new car!!!It is a gold PT Cruiser with a black stripe down the side. It used to be my grandpa's, but now it's mine! And now I need to name it!There is a story I follow (Waning Dawn) where she...

Yesterday, I read a story one girl wrote about her friend who committed suicide, and I decided it was time to tell my story. Even my own brother doesn't know yet. I did tell one friend and a few people at a camp about a month ago. I had only known these people for two days and figured I would never see them again. We were all supposed to be completely honest in group discussions and the question...

Why do people feel compelled to talk about their love life with people who really don't care? There is a couple sitting at the table next to me. Scratch that. They are not a couple...the man is talking about his wife. He keeps talking and talking and the woman only nods and says, "Wow, that's a really interesting story."No it wasn't. You didn't care at all. And it wasn't even an interesting story...

I am sitting in a downtown corner coffee shop right now, making flash cards on famous/important court cases. It is so cute, with freshly made food and relaxing music. Think Starbuck's minus about five bucks. They are starting to close up soon, so one girl is wiping down tables and another guy, the coffee guy, is making small talk with his friend who just stopped in. All of a sudden, the cashier...

I don't want to grow up. I want to go back to elementary school where I wore tights and little frilly dresses. Where we were all friends and there was no teasing. I want to go back to the times when I played with Barbies all day and slept with my teddy bear in my old room with the pink walls and flowery sheets. I wish that I could take life and put it on re-wind. I don't want to worry about a job,...

There is so much pressure. I feel like I have to get straight A's, be the perfect daughter, and not get looked down upon by my peers. All at the same time. I don't know how there is enough time in a day. I don't want to be a perfectionist. Why do I even bother trying so hard if it never gets me anywhere? Sometimes I just wish that I had the will power to be able to blow off a school assignment and...

AP English Practice Question question site (page 2)Drive down any 1950’s suburban street and what do you see? House upon house that looks exactly the same as the last one. Housewives vacuuming in heels and pearls while their husbands are away, hard at work. Middle-class families with a house, a car, a dog, and 2.3 kids. And lawn after cookie-cutter lawn with a pink flamingo. This apparent...

The following is a memoir I wrote in seventh grade about my cat dying, following the prompt "Who is your hero?":I gently stroked his fun, being careful not to bump into the IV card in his left arm. He tried to purr, but couldn't. The doctors said that he might not recognize us from the oxygen tank, but I knew that he knew it was us by the way that he lie in there, and the way he watched me from...