Mixing life: if you screw up, you can't start again.

I feel at peace sometimes, doing something relaxing. It's a nice feeling. Until somebody snaps me out of it and brings me back to the real world. Why oh why can't I mix that wonderful peace with real life? If I can go for a month in a monotone mood that would be fantastic. Or just relaxing with the alerts on homework still pressing me would be a blessing.
I love doing the things I love, which kind of counts as something I love.
Why can't I mix that with stuff I don't love as much? It really is so hard to combine feelings of worrying with happiness.
It may not seem like that, but that must be the best mood. The mood I strive for.

Ripleys Believe it or Not: Saying Hello

Why does nobody say heelo anymore? Surely it can't be that hard to open your mouth and greet somebody you know because you want to? Is it really as bad as it seems to say a simple good morning and be on your way? Does nobody believe it?
Somedays I go to school and say good morning to my friends and all they do is smile. Or maybe just ignore me and continue with their conversation. It hurts, and the hardest thing is that I feel nobody can relate to me with this. Everyone feels it's polite to say a greeting except for my friends, and that's amazingly annoying.
back when I was in grade four I was a loner, no doubt. I had a bob, glasses and missing front teeth. I had no friends, but didn't have the experience to know any better. i was so alone, I pretended to be sick so I could get away or explain the reason I was sobbing. I sat by myself at lunch and watched the people eating in groups. One birthday I got a card with a picture of two girls sitting on a bed, one of them brushing the others hair, it was then I realised that my life wasn't like that and I cried myself to sleep with hopeful wishes of friends. I thought I had that now, but I'm not so sure anymore. Are the friends really friends if they can't even say hello in the morning? Dumb question I know, but I don't have much experience. I'm looking for a helping hand, or at least a shoulder to lay on...

It's not me, it's you.

I enjoy doing what I love, and I enjoy escaping into that mood where nothing else exists and it's just me and my pencil. Scribbling away my worries in elegant strokes... So I find it hard when people say I can't do that. That i can't be myself and have to change who I am to be better or smarter. I have already made my mind up about life, I want to be an author, travel the world and meet new people. But people are telling me to be open to new experiences.
What?
But when I do experiments with chemicals I don't relax.
When I work out complex equasions I don't have so much fun.
When I'm running the oval five times I'm not euphoric or consumed, I'm puffing and in pain.
I don't love it, and I don't want to be something I don't like.
Someone told me to combine the giggly girl my friends see with the serious blog writer your listening too, but even then that wouldn't be me. Even if it were the better person, it isn't me. I don't want to be scociety's litle angel or the Sears covergirl. I want to be ME!
And if that means I don't fit in, I can handel that. if it means rejection, i've been there before, it's not something new and fresh.
But I can't bring myself to do it, there is still that strong part of me that wants to please others and make people happy. And that has been burnt into me, I can't erase it. No matter how many people there are to try and wipe me clean, that will always be there. I want to be myself, strong and independant, like a character in my stories, but I also want to be pleasing, not an outcast so people will accept me. I can't drop those things, they're both a part of me, and I can't let it go.
I don't want to let it go.

Expressions and other impossible tasks.

Expressions are hard, for me at least. I find it hard to say what I feel, or feel what I say. It's just not as easy as people say it is. You can sit there, speaking your mind the whole day and still limit your boundaries at the risk of hurting others. That's not a bad thing, neither is it a good thing. But it's something the human race has developed over time, and we do it subconciously because we don't want to hurt others. Someone will say something, something annoying, contraversial or offensive, but you'll suck it down. Then they'll say another, and you'll see red, but you do nothing because that is overeacting.
This will be the downfall of us. Expressions are important, too important. Because they show others how we feel. And if we feel angry but nobody realises it, how will they know how to stop? And if you crack and yell at them, is it really their fault? No, it's ours, and thats a hard thing to understand.
I go through these problems everyday, and I vent them through writing or listening or drawing. But that's not really enough and I need to learn how to express and vent through words without offending anyone.
Not as easy as you might imagine.

Blog 1: Starting out.

It happens, I'm afraid, at the age old question of mankind. Where to start? At the beginning, where fights and friendship troubles were apparently tearing me up inside without me realising it. Where it was so pitiful to not know regection and cold hard bitchfaces if it slapped me in the face. Or at the present, where I do know, and now it breaks my heart anytime something stirs the faithfully repressed memories. I called my blog Anchovies, Bee's and Deep Emotional Trauma because those are the things in life which really suck, to be blunt. Things, no matter how much ingnoring you do, still exist.

I think I will do a starwars, and begin at the end.

I, Charity (my name and all other names are fictional), am fourteen years old. I am in ninth grade and single. I've had a destructive history of friendships and breakdowns, and in the end, I bottle things up. It's not like I'm a ticking timebomb or anything, I just take things on the chin and just say it's part of life. But I tend to take things on from other people, I try, so, so hard to be the shoulder to cry on, because no matter how much you deny it, that's what you want in a friend.

Not somebody to tell you how to get over it or say that you should be strong but someone to pat your back and say 'Poor baby' At least that's what i needed in a friend, something I never got.

I tend to be peoples doormat. Somebody to rip on when your angry, something I regretably tend to do to my brother, Sam, a lot more than I should.

Do things ever really work out the way people want? No. Should we care? probably. I just hope for the best in life, and maybe, just maybe things can work out.