So this is why University student commit suicide!

I bored. Literally. My courses seem so 'blah'. I don't know what happened to all the motivation I once had back in high school. It seems to have all gone out the window. Back in the days I use to put effort in my work, I use to go the extra mile and I was never satisfied with anything under an 80. Now it seems as though I only care about getting by. 'It doesn't matter, just as long as I pass' this seems to be my new phrase. I don't know what has become of myself. I don't know what I want to major in. Sure, Sociology is easy, but I think that's the problem. It's not motivating me to open my text book and actually read what’s in it. I was looking into psychology, but who am I kidding? I'll need to take a math course...and we all know how wonderful I am with numbers. I think part of me is also scared of a challenge. I'm scared that I'll try my hardest and put my effort in but I won't succeed. Yesterday when I found out that I need a 4.25 to stay in honors, I almost had a heart attack. I can't possible be getting anything close to that. I think my gpa is 4.0 or lower. Not only might I get kicked out of University, but I'll be the biggest disappointment to myself. Last night I just cried, but I really wanted to scream. It sucks when you have to hold in anger and frustration and put on your happy face just too keep your family happy and in the dark.

Holly shit they're killing my dog!

Ok, so she's not my dog. But still! I can't believe this is happening. The one person who I get along with in the family, the one who actually listens to me, the one who I can actually stand... and they're killing her? Ok, I just called a dog a person. Did anyone else catch that?

Jesse's old now. She's sick, and blind in one eye. She broke her leg and she won't have a fully recovery. But she's my baby and I love her! I don't want to let her go! But at the same time I don't want her to suffer. This sucks!

"It is better to die on your feet than live on your knees." -Dolores Ibarruri
Well. Have any of you ever listen to Gasolina and wonder "What the fuck is Daddy Yankee saying?" I sure as hell have. Ok I'm still upset about the Oilers loosing. Their still winners in my heart. But the cup belongs to Canada. Tuesday, I managed to dislocate my knee..fall to my face, sprain my wrist, burst my lip open and get cuts all over my body. Wonderful. Oh and prom is next Wednesday. GREAT. My knee is doing pretty damn great...but as for my wrist and lip... umm...OUCH. I'm still in a bit of shock that high school is over. Not that I care. But I kinda do. I'll miss all the day time drama. You know when you watch passions or y&r and a scene comes on where your just like "where the fuck have I seen that before?...Oh yea! Winston Churchill." Hahaha. Shit I'm going to miss Datoo and Mary...Lia..Raj..Jenny..Rashid..and most of all...tamil-rama. Man. The good days of making fun of them. The more I think about it. I wonder what I'll miss about Datoo, but I've come to the conclusion that it's his ability to make me smile. Well. KAJRA RE!!! I have no clue what that means.

Dissappointed?

Good.

I don't know how dark/gothic art can be disturbing. It's art you stupid mother fuckers. And If we're disturbed, then your a closed-minded, fake, ignorant fuck face. Some of you churchill girls are so FAKE. "Fuh real yo". Most of you are graduating and you can't even speak english!! When did "Fuh" become a word in the English language? And you complain about Shakespeare? I bet he's turning in his grave. And what is it with some of you and soca music? You big up some tracks and think it's the greatest thing in the world. You don't even take the time to look back on the history of the music of the Islands. For you girls who THINK your all that. Sad news. Your not. Popularity means NOTHING. You apply 10 pounds of make up to your ugly face...and you think you can get any guy you want? Umm, no. Even testosterone looks for personality once in a while. Case: Your dog dies. The loaner kids with only a few friends...Those friends will surround that person with love and always provide a shoulder to cry on. The popular girl with 50 + friends.. only about 2 of those 50+ might give a shit. So what does that say? Popularity doesn't mean you have a lot of friends. It just means your putting on a show for one to many people. Dumb retards.

I'm not anti-social. I just hate people.
It always amazes me how memories can hurt us so deeply. Everytime I think back to all the days spent and wasted on Dru..it tears me up a bit inside, and I often spend days trying to repair myself. But in the end. I'd repeat over and over again if I had to. Everytime I got to see, touch and hear him. He left such beautiful imprints upon my life. I am so grateful to know a young man so wonderful as him.
Does death change our views on our life and the world we live in? I believe so. After Terrence went away, I found myself more into rock, more into Gothic art. More into politics. I've always loved the sweet sounds of Green Day, but I feel that I now understand the deeper meanings to their lyrics.

I am so inlove with his body art. I can't wait to get my own. I want the staff too, the symbol of death and my stars. Billie Joe makes me happy. I don't what it is about him. He gives me this delightful feeling of peace and freedom.

"Justice is conscience, not a personal conscience but the conscience of the whole of humanity. Those who clearly recognize the voice of their own conscience usually recognize also the voice of justice."
-Alexander Solzhenitsyn.
I have not yet made a conclusion on what I believe justice is. But it wasn't Terrence's death. It isn't Amy Fisher or Karla Halmolka (W.e the fuck her name is). I know that I don't believe in the theory "two wrongs don't make a right". It's bullshit. IF you do follow it. Then I think your a moron.

Jagged Little Pill

"We're all a little weird. And, life is a little
weird. And, when we find someone whose weirdness is
compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall
into mutually satisfying weirdness....
and call it love."

"I would rather spend everyday fighting with you,
than to spend the rest of my life without you"

"Uses of Great Men"/A friends suicide

"Thus we feed on genius, and refresh ourselves from too much conversation with our mates, and exult in the depth of nature in that direction in which he leads us. What indemnification is one great man for populations of pigmies! Every mother wishes one son a genius, though all the rest should be mediocre. But a new danger appears in the excess of influence of the great man. His attractions warp us from our place. We have become underlings and intellectual suicides. Ah! yonder in the horizon is our help;- other great men, new qualities, counterweights and checks on each other. We cloy of the honey of each peculiar greatness. Every hero becomes a bore at last. Perhaps Voltaire was not bad-hearted, yet he said of the good Jesus, even, "I pray you, let me never hear that man's name again." They cry up the virtues of George Washington,- "Damn George Washington!" is the poor Jacobin's whole speech and confutation. But it is human nature's indispensable defense. The centripetence augments the centrifugence. We balance one man with his opposite, and the health of the state depends on the see-saw." -Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson - Volume IV - Representative Men "Uses of Great Men", 1850


"There was something heavy and black and sticky about it [a friend’s suicide], a kind of terrible cloud. I felt sick and like fainting underneath it while I cleaned the apartment bare, like the winter clearing the branches of the trees and the earth with its terrible wind, leaving nothing behind. When someone new moved in with uncrushed dreams, then the spring would return to that apartment. But as for my friend’s widow, she would move on with the winter, following it like a gypsy wherever its cold wind blew, and its emptiness beckoned. It was also the beginning of her end. At that time, some people called my friend a coward. They said he had lacked the courage to face up to his problems, and to deal with the trials life had put in his path. I, always reluctant to speak ill of the dead, did not join in this chorus of condemnation. Was it superstition, (the vengeance of ghosts, and need to bind the threatening figure with love) or some important form of respect? In all events, my friend had proven his courage other times. Did his courage break, or is it only that there are different forms of courage for different challenges, and that we may respond courageously to some situations and not to others. (Perhaps it is like in Orwell’s 1984, where there is that room of horrors that holds the one thing we fear most, different for each of us. To one a rat, to one a bullet, to one a cliff with torrents of water rushing beneath, to one a disease: our personal weak spot, the one “special” thing that will break us, even if we are made of iron.) The question bothered me a long time. I felt a loyalty to my friend’s memory, a desire not to “sell him short,” and remember him as a coward; yet also, the suicide seemed such a tragedy, and there was a heavy darkness about it, not a bright, liberating shining. I concluded that I owed my friend a moratorium from judgment. There was both bravery and perhaps a lack of it in his action. The physical act of actually getting a gun, loading it, setting himself up with it, and pulling the trigger, which I went over in my mind again and again in my effort to understand him, did require physical courage - just like the act of jumping off the Empire State Building, which someone else I knew much more peripherally, did. But what of the courage of facing life’s challenges? I concluded that for him, bred to a different idea of courage, it was not easy to find valor in living out a humiliating demeaning life with no apparent light at the end of the tunnel. … I finally concluded that my friend was not a coward; that he simply had not reached the perspective on life that could have enabled him to carry on. This is why I feel that spiritual understanding, and connection with spirit, is so crucial to survive in this world, because raw courage may not be enough. The proudest lion who would keep on fighting if he was filled with arrows, might be killed by a mere shadow. There comes a dark time, a confusing time, when only insight can bring courage, and that is why the spiritual path is so crucial to any sensitive being on this planet. …Could it be, whenever we face a life crisis, as though our soul was seeking to cross a deep and difficult river in its path, and that we must keep on wandering along the shore, for the rest of time, until we finally find a place to cross, and dare to make the crossing? If so, we might as well do it now. If it’s painful now, why stay stuck in it, why keep perpetuating it for eternity? Certainly, things we do in this life can haunt us and imprison us within this life. …As the saying goes, no matter how hard you try, “you can’t run away from yourself” –which may be what we’re doing whenever we run away from a hardship life has ‘“forced” upon us. Therefore, I believe that we must struggle with all our heart and insight, to go on, and never take our own lives. …Suicide is only rescheduling the ordeal for another time—and if we cannot pass through the hardship now, what is it that will make us be able to pass through it in the future? On the contrary, the more deeply the precedent of collapsing is entrenched within our souls, the harder it is likely to become to break through the barrier in the future. It is as though our souls were bleeding. Better to fight now, before we lose more blood! And yet one more way to think about suicide: Look at a part of yourself that was beautiful, a childhood photograph, a picture that you drew, something that evokes tenderness before the self-hate set in. Something that evokes that maternal/paternal instinct that has kept our human race from dying out - the heart’s pull towards that which is helpless and beautifully fresh, whether we have fathered/mothered it or not. Accept that child into your care, like an orphan…given to you to love, even if no one else does, to care for, to be a guardian of. Imagine yourself carrying that fragile, beautiful being with you along a hard, dark road. Can you see yourself saying, “Enough!”, and just throwing that child off your back or out of your arms, down onto the hard ground at the side of the road, leaving it behind in the cold to die? Of course not!…"

I need to scream

Hollllyyy! Just when I thought my life couldn't suck anymore! Now I have this knee thing to deal with. Why can't I have normal genetics? Yea that's right. I blame my heredity for all my pain and suffering. As bad as it sounds...I don't care. I'm sure as hell not blaming myself. Maybe I should blame God. Just because you all love him so much. I'm trying the knee excercise shit. I hope it's working. I feel sore. So that's good right? Gosh. I don't know anymore. This new msn space shit is PISSING me off. I have so much to deal with already and now my blog is turning its back on me? I'd go back to writing a normally diary, but hell, that's so much effort.
Back to school in 3 weeks. Why? I'm dreading the 6th. It seems like all my hopes and dreams are going down the drain. I hate being me sometimes. It really bites in the ass. Errr.
I feel that life has ripped me off big time. There has to be more to this. Don't tell me I'm still young. Because for all my young years, the only thing I can remember is pain. Physical and emotional pain. I'm trying to fight it. So far I've done really well for myself. But there is only so much a human mind can take. This evil cover up I sheild myself with. I don't know how much longer it will last. I feel as though I keep running in circles in a dark room, and there is no one to save me or turn on the light. I just need someone to understand and relate. I feel so damn incomplete. I've done nothing to be proud of so far in life. Nothing that meets my exceptions. Maybe I am just aiming for something to high. I am a terrorist to my own body. I don't think I've taken care of myself as well as I am suppose to. Actually, I know this for a fact. It's like, I just don't care what becomes of my body and soul anymore. I want to become a better and stronger person both mentally and physically but I don't know how and I don't know if I'll really be doing it for me. It surprises me that everything I seem to do, reflects on how I feel about Dru. I'm trying to get over him, but I'm trying to get over him, for him. How weird is that? This is complicated beyond what I can deal with. I hate this. I hate having to fight myself and my own mind.
I know I may seem cold. But I do not want to give the compassion that I do not recieve. I've tried to do it before, and all I got was a crushed heart. I can't get the one thing I wanted. The one thing I'd give up everything for. So why should I care about anyone else? Go ahead. Call me selfish. I don't care.
Selfish I am.