Goodbye my Friend

          It’s been nearly one year ago today that I started using this blog as a confidant. At the beginning of 2011 I told you I’d write every day, then I changed it to 3x a week, and somehow it changed to just whenever I felt like it. And even though I failed at keeping up my part of the bargain, even though I abandoned you for an entire summer, even though I was probably the worst blogger in the world, you were always here for me. You’ve been like a loyal friend to me, the only one I could always count on to be there, no matter what. Through thick and thin (no matter how clichéd that sounds) I have told you all that was important to me, and you took it, without judgment. You’ve heard all the negative thoughts in my head, and yet you didn’t leave. Loyal. Thank you. And yes, I know you are an inanimate object, or idea, thought, who knows what, but still I think of you as a friend.

            2011, what can I say, it certainly has been something. In all honesty I can’t say I’ll be sad to see this year leave.  It hasn’t necessarily been a good year, or one that I look back at with much fondness. Sure, there are some memories I’ll care to remember: I met Conner this year (certainly one of my new best friends, I know he’ll always have my back), I got my puppy Molly this year (though she’s a handful I love her with all my heart), and that day in the summer when I got to hang out with Miranda, Conner, Kate, Alex, and Cameron (they all give me so much joy). Then there have been the bad that I won’t be able to forget, no matter how hard I try: the New York trip being canceled, my grandpa getting Cancer (although he seems fine now), my favorite cat of about 7 years having to get put down because of breast cancer and liquid in her lungs (Daisy, may you rest in peace), the same night as my cat dying one of my best friends was going to commit suicide and I had to tell my mom in to figure out what to do (I had restrained from telling her for a long time so as not to worry her, but my mom is strong and she called the cops. I don’t know if Justice would have actually done it, but I’m glad we called the police), and ending the year single when all my friends are in relationships with each other (though I am happy that they’re all happy).

            In a few hours this day will be over, and with the ending of the day, comes the end of the year. I look forward to the future, the year 2012 that greats me. I never actually thought I’d be looking forward to 2012, considering I think we all might actually die this upcoming year. However, I feel like I will be able to do whatever in 2012, it’ll be a year about me and about finding myself. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. During 2011 I didn’t accomplish anything that I wanted to, did I even have goals? I was weak this year, not the type of person I want to look in the mirror and see. So, 2012 will be the year I create that person, the one I want to see or would actually want to be. This might be another empty promise to myself, and I would not want to disappoint you anymore than I might have already, so I will not promise it to you. You’ve been far too good a friend to have to deal with the woes and worries of 2012, that’s not your job. Today, your duty has been fulfilled.

            This post has not been to simply say goodbye to 2011, but to say goodbye to you. This year is over, and so our time together must now come to an end. My dear friend, don’t take this personally, but for us both to move on, we must actually move on. Now, obviously I’m being overly dramatic. You’d be glad to be rid of me. Just kidding of course. Maybe. Not really.

            So this is my goodbye. This is my thank you. This is my final time talking to you.

            I’ll see you on the other side, my dear friend.

            xoxox

Love,

Baylee Jean

These Invisible Tears

My hand quivers as I type,
I'm shaking.


The words on this screen are all a blur,
I can't see straight.
There are tears behind these eyes,
and if I was smart I would just break down and cry.


But I don't cry.


I never cry.


Crying is a sign of weakness.
I know I'm weak,
but they don't need to see it.


A blockade to hold them back,
a dam to keep them in.


These tears have created an ocean,
in which I wouldn't dare swim.
Jellyfish built from memories: stinging.
Rip currents from doubts: killing.


And though I refuse to shed them,
these invisible tears wish me to tell you what they are about.


This tear is for the trip that got canceled,
because the funds were unavailable.
My heart took the trip anyway, and left me far far away.


This tear is for the girl I didn't know,
the one who didn't stop at the stop sign and passed away,
she was too young and too happy to be stolen away,
her absence is noticed every day.


Another tear for my friendships,
and how they're seeming to fall away.


This tear here,
is for the friend who never saw her worth,
wanted to kill herself,
and probably hates me for stopping her.


A few more tears for my kitty cat,
Daisy, may you rest in peace.
Some tears left my eyes,
but not enough to repay you for the years you never left my side.


And this tear,
it's quite different from the rest.
It's for not trying hard enough,
when we could clearly be the best.
This tear is for you,
but mostly for me.
Everything, everything we could be.


These tears should flow freely,
but they won't ever leave my eyes.


I can't remember what it feels like,
to cry for myself,
to cry for life,
or anyone else.


My hand quivers as I type this,
I can hardly see the screen,
I'm scared of everything I'm thinking,
I'm hoping it's all just a bad dream.

He said he can't come downtown.
I don't honestly think he tried very hard.
But why would he,
who would just waste perfectly good energy to hangout with me?

My heart is strangled,
twisting in my chest,
trying to break free,
and forget the rest.

You were here,
for what, five seconds?
Came to tell me you were leaving,
not coming along,
then laughed and left.

I don't wanna be here anymore.

A Place in Hell

The flames are coming,
to scorch and burn us all,
turning these sinful bodies into ash,
sending us all to hell.


The end of the world is approaching,
with every tick-tock of the clock
we draw nearer.
What will I leave behind?
When nothing's left
it doesn't matter anyway.


At God's gate we shall wait,
nervous looks to one another.
A choir of angels singing from beyond the golden gates,
but their holy harmony,
turned morbid as the death march rings through the air.
We all know we don't deserve to be there.


Then they call me up,
and I'll see my saviors face.
He'll read the records,
searching for some trace
that I am worthy
of staying in his holy place
mystified by his sacred grace.


And in that split second,
he'll read through all the things I've done,
and I sit there in front of him guilty
knowing the verdict before he's given one.


As I'm dragged away to the fires of hell,
I let out one last yell:
"Damned and condemned,
I've suffered worse than Satan's wrath,
and soul sucking demons.
Drag me away,
I've waited forever to be your willing prey."


And I see him,
the devil,
standing before me.
I smile, and laugh,
he just looks at me.


Finally I am happy,
released from the murderous, imprisoning earth,
away from deceiving backstabbers
and shattered hopes and dreams.


They say hell is pain, servitude, burning pain,
but when you've lived a lifetime on this earth.
Hell sure seems peaceful to me.

In all hate, you are the most ridiculous.

Your hateful tongues,
I find it funny.
But no of course you don't confront me.
You are a coward, afraid of yourself.
Have you ever done anything for yourself.
Honestly, think about it, if you have something to say, say it. Don't hide from me, and talk behind my back. That's what you're doing, and it almost makes you as much of a bitch as I am. You know it's bad when I can say that honestly.
I don't mean to make that sound rude, but it's tough love.
You can't say stuff about me, and not too me. That's talking behind someone's back and it does't work that way.
I always thought my friends were behind me. One hundred percent supporting me.
Can they not see that I've committed myself to this cause and have to work for it?
They're all fucking idiots right now.

Snowflake.

Why can't I be a snowflake?

A wonder-less piece of snow. 

I could chill the earth and make time seem to stop.

And when time comes I can melt.

Why Can't I Be A Snowflake?

 

2012 is next year.... BRING IT!

Today I realized that it's almost 2012. 

It's almost been one year since I started writing this blog,  I've almost lived another full year. 

I also realized that this earth has also been around another year. Of course what would bring this thought into my head, the Mayan calendar. According to it, we're all supposed to die next year. Now, the thought of dying doesn't sound fun, especially if the earth is supposed to explode or some crap like that. Although I don't really believe that the world will end next year, simply because it's been predicted, I think it very well may be a possibility. I know for a fact that I will be nearly scared to death when December 21, 2012 comes around next year. So I think I'm going to be one of those people that actually faintly believes that it's going to happen.

And with this I come to my point. Next year, I'm going to do everything I can, anything I want. I'm not going to give a rip about what other people tell me because hell, if it's my last year alive then I'm going to live it. And if the world surprises me and decides to live another year then at least I'll have a few interesting stories to tell in the future. Right?

Tomorrow I'm going to start writing my list of things I must do in 2012. 

I'm not trying to say I'll be completely reckless, no I haven't lost my sanity. I'm just saying I'm going to do what I want, because I want to do it. If people want to join me then sure, and if they don't then they don't have to. If they join me anyway and don't want to then that's their own fault. There are just somethings you have to say you did when you die.

Next year is sure gonna be something. 

Go ahead 2012. Do your worst. You may kill me, but ultimately only I'll be allowed to destroy myself.

What's the point?

I'm in Spanish class right now. Math class is over, thank goodness. 
Today in Math class we had to get with whomever went to our middle school and sing the song that they taught us to learn the quadratic formula. That left me in a group with Alex Murietta and Tellious Scott. Yeah, a grand total of three people that went to Vanguard that are in my Algebra II class. And we were suppose to sing the quadratic formula in the tune of "Pop-goes-the -Weasel", well actually I didn't sing and neither did Alex, we just stood there awkwardly as we left Tellious to sing. After that Durga had to point out the fact that I was "embarrassed" and I thought I could just chill in the back of the classroom (where my seat it) until class was over. About a half hour later he said "I hope we had a little fun and learned something, but I can tell that Baylee just hates it" when I clearly wasn't paying any attention, so I said "Huh?" Durga isn't bad, but I feel like he's the one teacher that doesn't think I'm a good student. Or not that I'm not a good student, he just sees past me. I hate teachers like that, not meaning I hate Durga, I just get annoyed at the end of lessons, and for that very reason I don't feel like doing the homework, and because I don't do the homework I don't turn it in, and because I don't turn it in he doesn't think I"m a capable student. It really goes full circle.
However, I did not start this post to talk about school, or Durga, or Math, or any of that crap I don't give much a care about. No I told Miranda I would write this post, and so, I am writing this post. I keep my word. I guess...


She asks me: "How do you feel about him, how much do you like him?" 
I try to tell her that it really isn't important and that it doesn't matter anyway, but she insists that it does.
So I'm telling you.
His name is Dakota Miller. 
Yeah, another guy with the same last name of me. I swear I'm the only person that has this dilemma. I mean it's not a big problem, no, it's just weird. First Alex, now Dakota. If we become good friends I'll get the "You should marry Alex, because then you wouldn't have to change your last name." issue even more than I did before. I can handle that though, without blushing probably not, but I can still handle it. 


His background information (let's pretend I'm a cool international spy making a profile for the alleged criminal): 
Name: Dakota Miller
Birthday: November 1st
Age: 17 years old. There's the first semi-strange thing for me. This would be the oldest person I've liked so far in my life. Not that 17 is particularly old, not I don't actually see a problem in his age. It's just different. I mean it's only 2 years older. And he doesn't really act like he's any old.
School: Home-schooled (internet school). Another new things, he doesn't go to my school, or any school for that matter. He actually did go to Grand River for half the year last year, he was in my Biology class. I didn't really pay much attention to him then though, didn't seem like the type of person that would want to talk to me. And then when the seating chart did place us at the same table, when I would have been forced to talk to him, yeah that's when he left school. I wonder if he realizes if he would have just waited one more month we could have become face-to-face friends... School doesn't seem like one of his top priorities, that's what I have to say about that.... but he's a good guy... and he's not stupid.
Hair color: Brown. I'm quite curious to see what it looks like now that he got it cut, but he said that it didn't really look much different (yet he hated it). Me and Miranda had a conversation about how he is a rock with fluffy hair. Simply because Miranda is mean and so am I because I had to agree because of how true it is... his hair it like a giant fluff-ball on the top of his head.... I'm honestly not sure if he combs it, but it doesn't look bad on him, but his hair could be like flippin' fantabulous if he tried.
Eye color: Oh gosh...we've had this conversation before, me and him. But i can't remember for the life of me.
Friends: (close friends at least..) Conner Johnson and Ryan Rheyer. 
^^And that dear people is probably the only reason he ever started talking to me in the first place. So depending on hoe tragically my desires end I will either have to greatly thank Conner, or I'll have to chop him into a million pieces, throw those pieces into a fire, put the ashes in a urn, bury the urn, bulldoze the area where the urn was buried, and then throw the urn into the ocean. That's how badly I think this could end.


It all happened a little after I started talking to Conner, after I met him and was well on my way to become friends with Mr.Johnson. Out of nowhere he started talking to me on Facebook. I am fairly certain it was sometime in the beginning of April. We talked about a lot of things that night, music and religion being the main things I remember... we've talked about many things since then. Although there have been long stretches in between time we've talked. It seems as if at certain times he has had no interest in talking to me and has gotten offline when I started talking to him. However, that hasn't happened for a while now, so I guess I won't let it bother me. Not now anyway, I have other things to worry about. He said he started talking to me because he needed more friends and Conner had started talking to me too so I guess it was kind of a forfeit. It was just a shot in the dark, the luck of chance.


However, I know that he just sees me as a friend. There have been so many things that prove it. (however there are other things that seem to point against it...) Half the time before he leaves he said "ttyl friend" it's kind of like a slap in the face... and the other day, that just blew it out of the water and proved it, he said: "Seeya later BIIOOOOTTCCHHHHHHHH". Then he claimed that he was hyper. I laughed it off "um...okay. Talk to ya later. Silly boy" and then he left. It just took away any hope that I had about us. But I still want us to happen...


Oh, did I mention I've only met him a total of two times... yeah that's right, two. The first time was a complete disaster. It was Conner's birthday party, at Craig's Cruisers, on September 19th. I had made a bet with Miranda: $5 that he wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't say a single word to me. Guess what. I won that bet. I didn't say anything to him either, whether it was because I wanted to win or not. We just didn't talk. At all. I spent the whole night, waiting for him to say something for me. I feel like I wasted that night. I was watching him the whole time, watching, waiting. Not a word. Yeah, that night was awful. I remember I spent the night at Miranda's afterwards and I spent like 15 minutes in her bathroom crying. I even wrote a post about it on here. I felt awful and sad and worthless. How could one boy do that to me? How?! 


The second time, we planned together. That gave me hope because he actually invited me to hangout with him, he wanted to see me. And then the time came, and we barely talked again. It was an awful time. AWFUL. Neither of us had a good time. It is obvious from the conversations we had about it, how much of an idiot I am because i'm all shy. Sounds like now he's sorta ready to try it again.


But what should I invite him to... and how do I get the courage to talk to him.


(It is now 7:07 pm, I'm home.)


Miranda asked me, on a scale of 1-10, ten being the best, how much do you like him. It's really hard to tell right now, like, I've never felt this way about a person before, but I'm not sure if that's good or not. In one way I would say about 8 or 9 but in the other sense I can see a 4 or 5. Simply because I really like him but I could also see myself with other people. Well I mean I find other people very nice. But he's the one that sticks out the most... you decide if you want to believe 8 or 9 or 4 or 5. It doesn't matter.


I guess I'll post this, cause once he gets online tonight I'll have regretted writing this post and doubting myself. Here you go, Miranda. This is what I think. and you probably hate this post cause it's so stupid. I AM SO STUPID.


Dakota, what do you think about me. 


I mean the boy has given me "relationship advice" telling me to just go for it. I bet he'd regret it if he neew it was him I would just be going for...


Sigh... I will destroy myself.


Love,
Baylee Jean







(I just answered someone on how to spell epiphany...)

20-25 Minutes Free to Write in English

Time is of the essence.
How shall I spend it.
I'm wasting it now I guess, imprisoned in school. But to someone else this is a dream come true. This life I'm living, there's someone out there who would give anything, anything to have everything I am. So, I best not waste that.
I've given much advice lately. Then I turn around, look in the mirror, and realize how much of a hypocrite I am.
The other way I told Miranda that this world is testing us. That's why we face all the things we do. Every little decision that we must make is something that this world has put there to test us. They just want to see how we handle it, and in all honesty it doesn't matter how you handle, just as long as you do handle it. Obstacles will continue getting in our way, simply because it's the way life works. That's why we've got to keep handling them, they aren't something you can just "put on the back burner" or simply pretend they don't exist. Cause then you don't exist. You gotta push on and move forward 'cause then all the problems just keep piling up and soon you're crushed underneath them. CRUSHED.
I've dealt with the problems in front of me. But another problem has been put in my way, a vary very tricky one. Have my decisions been the correct ones, or have a failed all together.

Love,
Baylee Jean

(This poor sub, she decided to get interested in what these people's play is about in English and then they started explaining it, got a bit more than she wanted to hear I reckon.)

Envious.

I am envious.
Envious of them all.
That child, playing in the street. What I wouldn't give to be in that spot. When every move or thought I made didn't cause some sort of internal infliction, drama, or pain. When I could say anything, and they wouldn't think I was crazy, or cynical, just a child with a childish brain. When did that change. On what day in my life did it all change, so that everything I do comes back at me. It would be lovely to just be careless sometimes without having to face a consequence, to take a day away and not have to relive what I missed, to say what I mean and mean what I say without having to regret it because it hurt somebody else, to be free of these chains that someone trapped me in. Is there a key and lock, and if I get out, do I win?
Maybe this is karma. What goes around comes back around. And if that case is true then it suddenly all makes sense. I'm getting back all the trouble that I've dished out. I'm being paid back for every action; starting with the stolen pretzel. That's why my life has become this. This year has not been all that I've wished, but wishes don't come true for those who don't deserve them.
So that's why, that's why. I hate all my classes and  the people in them. Last year I had kids I liked and could compete with. Sometimes it feels like they've moved on when I got left back, simply because I don't know how to act. With these kids, this new set of kids I've been placed with. They are far different from me, and compared to last year that's hard to believe. Later I'll create a list of the people in those classes who I miss. But I already know that I deserve this.
Karma's the reason, my friends are falling apart. I see the seams are slowly ripping apart. I'm letting them leave, I'm not going to force them to stay, and I understand why they should leave. Thank you Karma for taking the most important people away from me. They'll all side against me, but they are fighting their own wars against me. They'll pair off and group away, and I'm here left in the dust. I see in my near future a lunch table to myself. Thank you Karma for making me hate myself.
Is Karma also the reason I've had to put up with a Titanic. Something that could float so easily, and takes that as challenge to try to sink. These chains come from them, you see I haven't always worn them. They're new, still shining metal. Not as rusted and old as the chains binding me to the earth. I must have let down my guard at some point, I thought it was safe to do so. And right at that moment, she threw me to the ground, tangled me up in the chains, and clicked the lock shut. I see the lock right in plain sight, it's there right in front of me, but where is the key? I got far more tangled up in all this nonsense than I ever wanted to be. Thank you Karma for making me weak. So weak that I never know what to say or think. Thank you Karma for making me over think everything so thoroughly.
There are other things but I don't think I could blame Karma for them. Like the Moose and how I stand with him. Or my grades and how I just don't seem to care anymore. Thank you Karma for making me an even worse person for wanting to blame you for things that I have obviously brought upon myself. I should be able to handle them myself, but I don't know how or won't let myself. Thank you Karma for making me feel so worthless.
Thanks a lot.
Sure, karma's a bitch. But so am I.

This Mid-West Town is gonna miss you...

unless the town isn't in the mid-west and the people really won't miss you...

I understand your reasons for falling away from me, but I also understand my own for making it so. I know my reason for all the things I say and do (unless it's what I say to Mr. Dakota, cause then I'm completely confused). But why I act the way I do, in my mind it makes clear sense. You won't understand, I don't expect you to, and you'll all eventually leave me because of it. I'm going to miss you. But it makes perfect sense.

Fail. Hurt. Care. Sick. Kiss. Love. Free. Kill

Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail. Fail.

Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt.

Care. Care. Care. Care. Care. Care.

Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick.

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

Love. Love. Love.

Free. Free.

Kill.

I don't even know...

It has become pure practice to cut apart my soul,
to slice myself to pieces with every word I say-
slowly whittling myself away.


I was not always this way.


Expectations, and fears.
Creations of reasons that I should not be here. 
____________________________________________________________


I want to quit. 


I don't see the point.


15 years, never been loved, never been kissed. Never been.


15 years, I've been there. It's as if I never was.


15 years, and what do I have to show for it? Teen angst, an unedited novel, and some shitty poems?


My heart has been frozen. And whenever I find someone to thaw it, I fuck it up. Erick, Ethan, Travis, and now this one. This Boy, he certainly is something different...but he's going to end up just like all the rest. 


Dakota. No, I've most certainly never met anyone like you before. Crazy cliche right there. I could say that I really like him, and I want him to be mine. But how can I say that when I hardly know him? If we were being technical I could say I've hung out with him twice... but if you asked me how much I actually talked to him during those two times, the answer would be so low that it would probably just make you cry, so I dare not say it. But despite that, I still like him. Pathetic, huh? It's probably not the smartest decision, especially when I know nothing can come from it. Well that may be a lie, but probably not. I'm not the kind of girl guys fall for, so that is where my biggest problem is... but in all honesty it's the talking thing. I would love to hangout with him again, and I feel like I could honestly try. But no chance he's go for that train wreck again... and what if he did, would I be capable of talking to him, treating him like everyone else. When in reality he is so much more than everyone else... 


Dakota...


God damnit....I'm so screwed...


Love,


Baylee Jean

Dear Alexander James Miller,

Your flower is dying. Sorry, I couldn't keep it alive forever. I guess you didn't really expect me to, did you.
'Will you take this flower to have and to hold, until it dies?"
Of course.
It will die, and so will I.
And just like you didn't expect me to keep the flower alive,
I don't expect you to cry.

Sisterly Love,
Baylee Jean

Wind

It rustles the leaves and messes up my hair.
You can't see it, sometimes it's impossible to know it's there.
And I envy it, when it comes along.
So sweet the wind, it come along, singing it's mellow song.
Oh but sometimes it howls, and I wonder what causes it such pain.
It rips through the day and chills the night.
Wind is my friend, one with whom I can relate.
It's as though it's singing me my fate.

I could stand out side on a day like to day,
and I would just sit there hoping that the wind would whisk me away.
I dream about where it could take me,
Sometimes the wind is the only one that knows me.

It gives me power and thoughts,
things i can't think about unless it's there.
It makes me feel free,
however sometimes it makes me feel tiny and pathetic,
oh so small.
But there is no way
to make the wind go away.

And on a day like today,
I feel like it knows me.
It's pushing the leaves, ever so softly.
Today Wind brought his friends:
Clouds and Cold.
A mighty fine trio they are, indeed.
They make me think about all the things
the things I'd rather not think of,
but wind knows that sometimes these things can't be left alone.

I thank the wind for carrying me.
And for dropping me so hard.
Somet

Failure.

Well there goes my math test.
Failed.
I couldn't even answer the first question correctly. Not sure where exactly my mind is today. I mean I had it all down last night when I was studying, but now, it's all gone. How can all that information just, disappear. Well my mother is going to be not so pleasantly surprised when she sees that grade on Infinite Campus. And then she's going to see the AP Gov. test grade, which I'm sure to fail later.
With your feet in the air and your head on the ground, try this trick, spin it. Yeah.
Thank you Sucker Punch for putting that lovely little line in my head. Try to be happy. Maybe I just should't worry about it, no matter how much it needs be worried about. At four o'clock today I will be out of school until next Monday. I'm going to have fun with my friends these next few days, Thursday I'm going to have a lovely Thanksgiving with my family. No stress, Baylee, just don't stress over it.

To tell of Joy?

Joy is a moment frozen forever in time.
It's those days or moments that you feel invincible. Those milliseconds when you aren't afraid.
He is joy. Whoever he shall be, is always joy to me. And I find it sad, that I depend so much upon finding that joy, that it's what joy has taken on the form of.
It's a smile back when you look at him, your heart almost leaps.
It's making eye contact with him, while trying to figure out why he thinks the things he thinks.
It's holding a conversation, 'cause we all know how bad I am at those.
But joy only exist in fragments.

Well all know that joy is..
"false hope".
False hope: this word so many seem to believe in. Everything is false hope. Where is hard work and courage. Well aren't you one to talk mister.
It doesn't last any longer than we let ourselves believe in the power we have, in ourselves. Joy is only for the beautiful and strong.
My strength, I grasp at it, and sometimes it's gone. But beauty is something, I've never quite known. I've always been too much. Ya know. Literally and figuratively. Obviously Joy is not meant for me.

Maybe I knew it once,
in that time when beauty didn't matter and strength was just a test of who could kick harder. When he was my world and everything I was aiming for. But now I don't even know him, he;s nothing but the thunder drumming distantly through the clouds. Can it be that it's been that long since I've felt utter joy? Did he steal the joy I had in that final hug, or did I just allow it to latch on to him, and never bothered trying to get it back? I'm sure by now he's spent my joy. These days I don't feel helpless at the thought of him, I don't honestly care anymore for him. But if I actually saw him, and sat down to talk to him...let's just hope that never happens. [I think Miranda's going through her Thunder right now, but she can;t steal the song, it'll alwats be mine. He will always be my thunder.] The only way for joy to come back to me is if some kind person, with a good soul were to lend me some of there's, and with that I'd know they truly care. I wonder if, anyone will ever see past all this, who I am and how I look. Right now I'm lost, anyone care to find me?

Joy, joy joy,. Why does it seem I can only find joy in the form of a boy? Am I that pathetic?

Love,
Baylee Jean

His Rose

He gave me a rose,

a tribute of his fame

for a fan I am,

simply because I came.

I put the rose in a vase

placed it on the table,

so that everyone could see

what he had given me.

The night had been something,

but I had been through it before.

He preformed like a star, 

and I admired his talent from afar.

I was like everyone else,

meant to sit back and watch him--

and wait.

At the end of the show,

when finally we could speak,

many admirers surrounded him already

but I was used to it:

his ego and fame.

It was a part of him,

and made him happy.

That's what really mattered to me.

I got my hug,

and a hello.

I let him know that he was the star of the show.

He had me follow him

as he thanked them all for coming,

I stood back and watched him

I felt like I was drowning.

Finally, I had him

as much to myself as it would be.

He'd given four others the flower,

and I wonder if he felt obligated to give one to me.

But when he got down on his knee

I wondered if maybe he really did care about me.

I don't mean like love or lust,

I'm fairly certain those feelings are above us.

But a brother and sister bond I can understand,

or maybe even that crush I had upon him,

still had some strength,

and maybe he was just showing what a gentleman he can be.

Whatever the reason,

the reason he felt that he

needed to drop down upon one knee

and ask for my hand

is above me.

'Baylee, would you take this flower

to have and to hold,

until it dies.'

He knew how to flatter me,

to make my face turn red,

almost four years he's been playing with my head.

I accepted his gift

with a smile too real to pretend it was fake.

I couldn't help but to instinctively smell it,

so sweet and strong.

The night had to come to an end,

so he hugged the other girl,

then looked at me.

'I saved you for last,

so that it'd be more special'

I wondered if he meant it,

or if he'd say that to any girl had to hug last.

But I hugged him tight,

wrapped my arms around him,

one of the better hugs I've given.

I savored it,

I wouldn't have let go if I didn't have to,

I'd miss him when he was gone,

I always do.

He plucked the hat off my head,

and told us farewell.

Now the rose sits on my table,

in a vase,

for me to see just in case

I forget,

where happiness lies.

But I know,

that the flower will die.

In no time at all, it will lay wilted before me.

As my spirit falls with it,

because I know he'll soon forget me.

Am I Okay?- Poem

People have begun to notice,

they see something different,

something wrong.

They ask me,

'what's wrong'

What's wrong?

You ask like you really care,

like what I say will make some sort of change.

Life you're going to try to help.

So I say,

'nothing, nothing at all'

You proceed on,

you ask and ask,

what's wrong, wrong, wrong!

All I want now is you,

gone.

It doesn't matter what's wrong,

all that should matter is something is,

is very wrong.

Does it matter what the problem is?

Something is wrong.

But I don't tell you that,

'I'm tired, that's all'

Tired. Tired.

I slept like a baby last night,

no way in hell

that I'm 'tired'.

And at that point you say

'okay, if you're sure.'

and I nod,

I nod because I know,

I know that if I told you-

if I told you:

If I told you that I'm angry,

mad at the world and the way that we have chosen

to work our earth like another steel-piped wired machine.

If I told you that I'm ashamed,

upset with the decisions I've mad and regretting

the things I didn't have the courage to do.

If I told you that I'm scared,

deathly afraid of losing everyone I love

and having them give up on me because-

I'm not good enough.

If I told you I'm confused,

so much to the point that I don't know who I am anymore;

You wouldn't say a thing.

Or worse,

you'd look at me like I'm crazy,

like I'm too far gone.

You'd put your hands up in surrender,

'well jeez, who knew life sucked so bad.'

As you walked away,

you're thoughts hateful toward me.

Because I know,

you want to hear:

“I'm doing just swell!

I'm beautiful and proud.

I know my dreams are coming true,

and I'm happy.

Glad I could spend this moment with you.

I believe in fairy tales.

My grades are great and I'm gonna make it

far.

The Lord is my god and I know

he's got a place in heaven saved for me.”

But I can't say it.

I can't say it because I know,

I will never look like the models

on tv.

He will never love me.

So, I can't say that I'm beautiful.

My temper is awful,

and I bite at the souls

of those I love.

How could I dare be proud?

I feel like I'm trapped

doing the same thing day after day.

I don't even know what my dreams are anymore.

The prince rode off a long time ago,

leaving me in the cold:

scared and shy.

Fairytales are a lie.

I couldn't get my grade up in A.P. Gov.

if I gave my last breath for it.

Getting a C is average,

I guess it fits.

I know they're all better than I.

Am I going to make it out of high school alive?

I pray and hope,

I feel God there,

but I wonder

if He really cares about the teenage girl

praying with all her might that her kitty cat will just make it through the night.

I never know what to say.

If I'm positive then I'm lying.

If I'm negative, I'll scare you away.

So please stop asking,

“Are you okay?”

Bored.. Duh.

 I'm writing this in A.P. Government right now...

I honestly don't want to be here. Yesterday my mom allowed me to skip school for absolutely no reason. Yeah, yesterday was amazing. I tried it again today, but I knew it wouldn't work. It almost did though. She things that there's something wrong. Like, really wrong. Worrying my mother is so very easy to do. I'm not the only one that hasn't been themselves lately. In all honesty, I don't think I've been that off. Maybe a little more negative that usual, but not that bad. I don't think. No one is telling me otherwise (besides my mother) and no one has really cared to change anything so... I guess there's nothing wrong.

Today I have heard three references to Tumblr, or things I've found on Tumblr...I must find my classmates on there, and stalk them, but never add them. I don't need all these people seeing my Tumblr. I don't even like half of them. But that's a whole different story.

I really want to write a poem. But I can't think of what to write. Or rather I can, I just don't know how to say it. How to say these things in my mind. And make them...almost rhyme? Poetry doesn't have to rhyme they say, but they do have to flow. I think that may be my problem, I've lost my flow. Flow. Hmmm...

Dear God,

Dear God,

I know I don't talk to you much, seems I only come to you in times of need. And I know I'm not worthy of saying this prayer. I've done many things wrong by you, and I've dealt in my fair share of sin. But, I need to ask you something important. So, please, if you could take time out of your forever busy schedule, I'd be forever humbled.
You already know about Daisy. Which is why I'm sure you probably already know what I'm going to ask. But the bible says, "Ask and you shall receive" so that's why I'm heard. Lord, there is something wrong with her. I could think of a long list of things that I think is wrong, but in all honesty why would you want to hear those, when it comes down to it, you're the only one that truly knows what's wrong with her. So, I'll make it simple, she's sick. Hurting. And she doesn't deserve it.
All I want to ask you, God, is that you watch over her. Daisy. Ms.Daisy Miller. She's been in my family, probably no less than 7-6 years. She was born in this house. She was Sassy's first daughter. She is the most loyal cat I've ever known or had. So, please god, if you could keep her safe, it would mean the world to me right now. If you could keep her alive, and not suffering, I'd be forever in your debt, even more than I already am. If you could help us, help her to get better. I would be beside myself with gratitude. Lord, I know I've probably never done any good for you. I know that I probably don't deserve this. But she's a good cat, God. She is the best. Please, oh please my lord. Be with her.
All I can say now is thank you, the fate in this rest with you.
Thank you for all you've given me, thank you for everything. I know I don't say thank you enough and I'm sorry. Sorry for everything.
Thank you, God.
I love you.
Amen.

I think I'm finally catching up??

Is it possible that life might finally be catching up with me? Or, I'm catching up with it? I'm not sure how to explain it exactly, it's just I feel like I actually have a story to tell again. Like, if one day a child were to ask me about these day, then I'd have something to tell them. You know what I mean? Not that it's all necessarily good, but it is something. I feel like I have more to leave behind with me now. I have SOMETHING at least. This month has probably been the worst one I've had in a while, maybe in my life. It has also been one of the ones with the most things happening, so many things going on, so many things happening. Most have not been...good, but, well, not much I can say. It's certainly been...interesting. I'm trying to decide how to go about with this blog anymore. I'm losing my capability to write about my life without it sounding crazy, and well, flowing. In all honesty that pretty much is my life, crazy. As I've done before, I guess I'll outline it into sections of my life.

Friends:

Well, I love them all like crazy. But... they are insane. In a way, I sort of feel like I don't fit in with them anymore. I'm just there and I'm being a bother to everyone. I can tell that I'm annoying them. Not that I haven't been annoying them for, like ever. Now it's just far more noticeable, to me at least. Seems to me that if there was a way for me to get out of there hair without being lonely, then they'd want me to take. Would I take it? What would become of me without them? Sometimes, I feel like they're the only ones keeping me sane, and in this place. I'd be a completely different person without them. School would be hell, my parents would make me want to claw my eyes out, and Michigan would be nothing but the place I move throughout every day, not a home or a place to live. Just a place to be. I am thankful for them, and I honestly wonder what would happen if I just cut ties with them. If I sat down at a different lunch table, blocked them from facebook, didn't seek them out at school. How would my life be? Another thing is, I recently learn that one of my friends has a crush on me. I am very disturbed by the matter, simply because I don't know what to say to her. Obviously she must know that nothing will ever come from that, I mean come on, I am 100% straight. So, that has been a big problem. Like, why did she have to tell me. Not that I didn't already have my suspicions. Why do only females like me, then I feel bad cause I don't and never will like them back. Difficult shizz being difficult. I think Miranda hates me right now. I don't really know why. She's seemed really distant lately. I also owe her, big time, because she went to the mall with me with those... “guys”. I went to try to talk to Dakota... in all honesty all she did (and conner) was bore me, Dakota, and Ryan to death with their pokemon playing. But I haven't the slightest clue how to make it up to her. Also I finally decided I'm done with Kate and Conner's relationship. They are technically dating. And getting on my final nerve. Mostly because I'm single and just want someone to cuddle with... hm....I'm bitter, we've been over this. That's about all I got goin' on in the friend department, or all that I can think of at least.

Parents:

Are confusing as hell. One minute we're happy and joking around. The next they're yelling at me for being ungrateful, disrespectful, and an all together disgrace. I really hate them talking to me that way. Sometimes, I swear they haven't the slightest clue who I am. But I guess if I had a perfect relationship with my parents then I wouldn't be a teenage. However, current events have occurred since I wrote that. My cat is getting worse. Daisy, I love you so much. I need you to feel well, you deserve to feel well. What would it take for my mother to see that there's something seriously wrong with my dear kitty? Something terrible probably. My mother, like millions of others, block out what is wrong in the world, and then gives blame to others. Finally, she decided to take Daisy to the vet on Thursday. Finally. I just hope there will be a solution to the problem. Somehow through the process of this it turned into me being ungrateful and wanting too much even though we don't have the money. I'm sorry that my pet got sick when you don't have money, but it's not like I planned it or even wanted it to happen. But it did so, don't blame me.

School:

I don't really think this is important. Maybe some other time we will speak on this. And how I still don't feel like I belong and can't really claim this school as mine, like I'm not worthy of saying that “Grand River Prep” is my school.

Love:

I'm kinda screwed in this department. Under some circumstance, I think I've fallen for Dakota...I know right, like what the hell. I've fallen for a computer screen, which is actually quite understandable. The thing is, he's slightly more than that. We've technically hung out twice now, both were pretty much epic failures, and at the end of both I've felt completely helpless and like a total bitch. I'm just not sure how to talk to him, I'm afraid that if I say something, anything, I'll ruin everything. And that's probably the stupidest thing to say considering without me talking to him, there will be nothing. It makes no sense. I'm afraid he's not going to give me anymore chances to try.

But in all honesty there are much more important things in the world. More important things that I should be thinking about, other than myself. There are things that are bigger than me. Things that I should invest all my attention in.

Daisy, please make it. I love you so much. I love you, ya know that? You've been a very loyal cat to me. Thank you. Please make it, we're trying to get you some help, truly trying. Please be okay. I love you.

~What's left of Baylee Jean Miller

-Poem-

I don't speak,
not a sound.


There's nothing I could say
to make you stay.


Look at me,
my heart is truly yours--
for these things,
we don't have words.


When it's so cliche to say:
my heart is in it, but my mind
tells me to runaway.


Who are you?


Do I believe the things that you say?
When you're barely speaking to me.


You exist, I have seen you.
but with those eyes, I have cried at the thought of you.


I won't lie,
I can't lie,
I've never had this feeling
and I'm not sure how to describe it:


Fear,
or love...


Both of the above?


This hopeless romance,
built of so much fantasy.
It's so unreal,
but I'll still get hurt.


So please, don't ask me why,
I don't say a thing.

[It's a 11:10..we're waiting in AP GOV.
I made a wish..]

Well... conferences were tonight...

There's a few lessons I want you all to learn. Firstly, don't set your expectations too high, you will ALWAYS be disappointed. God damn you this is my fucking life, and if I want to live it this way, then the hell with you. I'll do what I want. Don't tell someone how to live and that you're disappointed in them for not doing better when you haven't been through it. Don't you dare tell me that you have, this is different than your petty little high school where homework probably took you less than three hours a night. YOU DON'T KNOW A FUCKING THING ABOUT ME! NOT A THING! Stop telling me what to do and who I am. I don't give a damn what others say about me, and right now you are just another disapproving voice, nothing more. I may be your daughter but I am not your CHILD, I haven't been for at least two years now. I have got to take care of myself. Not you, not your desires. You, no doubt made some fucking mistakes as a teen. Oh, did you forget about those. Got the upper hand now. Say all the things you told your parents you'd never say to your kids, just because you got some big authority now? Yeah I have some missing assignments. You wanna know why. Because those fucking teachers, instructors, pompous bitches, whatever you wanna call them; they load me with homework each friggen night. My backpack is at least 20 lbs. probably more. I must have at least and hour in each class. Probably 2 for Ap Government. There's no way in hell that I can get that ALL done ALL the time without going crazy. Did you also know I dream of running away. Or of quitting this school completely. When I asked what you'd do if I dropped out, I wasn't kidding, even if you think it was haha rhetorical. I was so god damn fucking serious. You haven't the slightest clue. I haven't been happy in god only knows how long. And contributing to the many reasons, this fucking school and you (YOU YOU YOU!) are one of the reasons why. I'm no super human, and I'm not your bitch. Not one slightest bitch. I'm not perfect. Go ahead, give me that look. Be "so disappointed". I'm not upset because you are, I'm upset because I haven't gotten out of this place yet. The second I can leave, I am so gone. I love you guys to bits and pieces, but you best know, the second I turn eighteen, I am out of this place. GONE FOR GOOD! Now go ahead, have fun being disappointed. You haven't the slightest clue. And they say I'm naive. Fuck you.

I walk this lonely road

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