51

It's been sometime and I've been busy trying to keep up. So many readings for classes I don't know how I'm going to fit everything into one term. I need money. I'm broke. I spent it all on textbooks and ended up with 2 dollars in my account with another book to buy. I was silly this year. I didn't try to sell any books back. Hopefully with everything going on I may be able to post a few soon. I'm running around in a million circles and honestly, I'm just typing everything going on in my head right now. I've spent a weekend doing nothing but losing time. Lost time cleaning, eating, sleeping, having things get canceled, debating with my mind, movie watching, and reading. It's been a blur of a week and another one coming. My fingers won't stop writing but I must go to bed soon. I need to get up and replay another week with new chapters. So here I end my ongoing typing.

The End.

48

It's Christmas! Well, a day past by the time I'm writing this now. Merry Christmas.
I can't really put any thoughts together since I've been running around like mad the past two days. I need to settle down to figure out these overwhelming times. Will write more when I know more. Have a good few days!

The End.

45

It's a strange thing. The idea of promises you make yourself. Do they really work? Unless you're totally secure and completely unwilling to ever fudge the guidelines of this promise, I say no. You can't promise yourself anything with the parameters we want. Things get in the way. Subjects change. Environments change. The whole idea is outrageous. I find myself promising that I won't look at the clock until I've finished reading this page of an assignment only to look after the next sentence. I don't know if it's just me, but I find unless there's some other motivation, I can be happy fudging my promises to something I'm still okay with. I know me and I know the practicality of me too. I'm flawed and so are the promises I make myself.
But that doesn't mean a promise to someone else will be broken.

The End.

42

Hair cuts and cleaned rooms. Practically a tradition after a stressful time when everything's been ignored. I reinvent in a sense by starting fresh and starting over. Like a cleared head in physical terms.
Starting new. Until I need to again.
The End.

29

I'm mellow right now but I should be stressing. I blame it on the beauty of music. I have songs flowing through me that are radiating in a calm, sweet happiness. It's bringing me back to the things that I miss. The things that made me so happy in the moment. The memories that I wait for again. Those moments that will stay everlasting as good moments no matter what bad happens later.
I recommend listening to Snow Patrol's "Set Down Your Glass" if you're wishing for the same soothing qualities.
The End.

24

It's been a long time. A really long time. It feels like a whole life could fit in the gap from then and now but things don't change much.
I'm still dealing with even more in my life. The bricks keep getting laid, but they're crooked and jagged and waiting to topple. I keep picking them up just before, but I know they'll fall soon.
The pressure is getting to me. School, work, family, friends, life. The only constant I have is my music. It keeps piling up too. Album upon album of comforting melodies. Some comfort in ways that depress while others hold as a great morning pick-me-up.
I missed my writing, I hope to keep it going again as another constant in my life. We shall see what happens.

The End.

21

It's a hard time here. I have bad news all around me and it's getting to me. The problem with that is that I'm so good at hiding everything that's affecting that no one knows. To some that would be perfect. To me, it makes me wonder why I do it? Why do I hide something so close to me? Another thing that gets to me, how come no one can tell? I need someone to know what I'm going through, someone that can tell straight away. I need someone I don't hesitate to speak to where it doesn't matter where or when I do it. Of course, at this moment I'm even hiding the news to a sibling or two so that they can enjoy their evening at prom. Thats however, it out of protectiong for them, not me. I don't think I need all the protecting I guard myself with, but who knows? I;ve come accustomed to my walls. Could I ever break them down?
The End.

19

Traveled home by train today. It's not a new thing. I've done it many times before. Had a job where I was taking it daily a while back. I stood there in my mellow mood watching the train pass by as it slowly came to a hault and couldn't help but notice the reflections. All these faces with the same expression, all with the same thought in mind "I'm going to find a seat HERE." All knowing their next step. It's a strange way to look around but you can see quite a bit as a train whooshes by. Five people at least to each side of you, those starring through on the other side of the track, and those in the train already. But seeing me there seemed strange. A warped image as my ghost-like reflection goes in and out of window and metal. Raised bolts on the train carts muffle my reflection but I am still the same. I don't move and yet I trail in and out with my hair swaying in the breeze. A peaceful moment. A expression. One moment in time.

The End.

18

I've been home for a while now and it's funny how little has happened. It's nice not having the rush back into things but I feel it coming. Interviews and acceptance. Things are changing and the summer will soon pick up. I'm excited for the change. Hopefully it will help brighten up this mood I fall back to way too often. Summer seems to be a time of change and adaption, sometimes more than Fall. Hope I can find my new self in all this change. That's all I want.
The End.

17

Who takes the first step? It shouldn't be a question but it always seems to be.

After a fight. After some distance and time. After a great night. Who takes the first step?

I guess it comes down to a bravery thing. There's always those thoughts that come up though: Why must I do it? Don't I always make the first step? Isn't it their turn? Would I be too pushy? Should I give them more time?

My stupid mind questions too much sometimes. We all go through it. It's one of those games we deny to be a part of. Why does anything have to be a guessing game to begin with? Some jump into whatever without questioning. I like that idea, but it's not me. Analytical me.

Who takes the first step? I know while I think this through, a few days will pass and no step will be made.

The End.

15

Today is a lovely day. The trees are green. The dandelions are starting to blow in the perfect breeze. The sun is high in the sky. The neighbourhood is the most peaceful it's been in weeks. It's a great day, at all ends and yet it's empty. Sunday used to be a family day and now it's full of people running around doing our own things. My sibling has homework, my mother is helping as usual, my father is out and about on some new date of his. I miss the structure and regularities of being a child. Everything was exciting and new. Sundays were days I'd awake to pots and pans clanging to scramble eggs and fry up blueberry pancakes. That was at the old house. That was what seems like a lifetime ago. That is what I miss today. The old traditions. The ones you look back on and find them to be perfect. Those memories that are so vague they are now only held onto by a small graphic or sound. So little detail is left in your mind but that's what makes it perfect. Your mind wanders in and out of that thought and nothing seems to be wrong. A small memory of traditional moments that can never be repeated for what they were. I'd replace this lovely day to hear those pots and pans and taste those smells again.
The End.

12

It's been an odd few weeks full of self doubt and secluded moments. They've been fair and good and have treated me kindly. An obsession with dishes has become my grand distraction. Soothing yet not enough to brighten any mood. Of course, music becomes the master helper in these efforts to turn around a mood. It has lead me to an album gifted to me around Christmas from my folkie Uncle by Nick Drake. A great artist that wasn't put unpon any pedestal during his music career.

I've been listening constantly to the Pink Moon Album and it's not only light, calm and mellowing, it has a sound of seclusion and reflection that really relates to me right now. I think that everyone has those times of depression to fight through. I've been there before and ever since I fight so hard to stay away. Half the time it ends up being through pathetic distractions of hang outs and cleaning (most of which I'm using right now) but I say, as long as your fighting your way through, isn't it worth it?

Some don't survive through great depressions. After becoming fascinated with Nick Drake's music, I found him to be one. I'm no expert in the matter. Far from it. But I think it's worth trying to recover from. I won't get into details or debates. I had a few written and felt like it wasn't right to touch on my opinions in the matter compared to others. All I can say is, I'm in a bad place to be and with everything I have I'm fighting for survival. It's a tough and lonely world we live in, I hope I can just make it through and find some joy again.

The End.

11

I don't know if I've ever felt more alone than now. Of course, it could be the alcohol talking, or the crabiness I recieved as a result from trying to speak to my brother, but it feels like one of those moments. People downstairs, but no one to call. I'm outta school and recently jobless so it leaves hours of thinking in which I probably shouldn't be doing. Being a girl, you can only think so much until you start running circles in your head of things on your mind over and over again. Different scenarios, all variables of the last only slightly realistic, but all remotely true. Anyways... my thought process has lead me to the realization that I am at a low. I know I have been for some time but now, being angered by those downstairs watching a favourite movie of mine, I am here ranting of how rude and inconsiderate they are. I am ranting about how they know me even less than I thought. I am ranting about how I still don't know myself enough and my true emotions. And in my mind, I'm still running through the guy/girl story in my mind and why it has still gone so wrong.
The End.

9

I'm having a lounge day from the rest of the world, trying to feel like myself again. There's been so much pressure from people lately it's hard to just snub off anymore. But, like always, I'm trying.
So I've sat here and tried to catch up on a few things going on in my life. Contact some friends as they come back home from schools, wish a few luck on their last exams, message some I haven't seen or heard in a while. I've been debating a few ideas in my mind, none at which I would like to state right now.
Girl and Boy are patching things up slowly. Miscommunications got the best of a few situations and I'm hoping it's the same for another friend of mine.
I answered the door to a guy wanting to sell something today. My lounge day has consisted of PJ's and a sweatshirt. When I opened the door he asked for my parents. I'm staying optimistic about that fact and I guess I can be happy that I can still pass off as a kid when I want to get out of things.
The End.

7

A bit about me.

I am not really S.D./sweetdarlin. It's my alias.
My real name is unique in pronounication and spelling. Many people have tried both, most have failed.
I'm a music freak but I try to hold off of speaking it here.
Coffee keeps me going but sleep is also nice.
I have eclectic taste which normally does not repeat itself. Therefore, I'm hard to shop for and impossible to figure out.
Half the time I don't even know what's running through my mind. It scares me. If I can't figure it out, who will?
I'm a secretive person, but I don't want to be here.
I have more of an imagination now than I did growing up.
I wish the world wasn't tied down so much.

The end.