Creepy Crawlies

     Currently, I am compsing a piece of writing that will some day be posted as a blog. (Not this post, but one I started earlier in the week.) Anyhow I have been neglecting this because I have been Facebook-ing. It's quite annoying how addicting it is, but I will find a way to moderate my use of it. Now I am putting a close to this lame introductory paragraph to bring you current events in the world of Passíon! :D
     Come mid-March, the state of Virginia gets to judge whether or not I am fit to carry a piece of plastic with my name and other such information on it. My ambitions are to pass the driving portion of the exam the first time, as I have already taken the written part (which is why I have my permit card). Moving right along, this piece of plastic is one part of a whole chain of approvals I need, well actually... I don't need these approvals, expect the licenese; I DO need that, but I would prefer to have all the approvals, which I will explain right now.
     A few facts will help you understand my preference of recieving these approvals...

1. When I graduate from high school, I will still be seventeen. I used to think that was really cool until I realized that my mother would still have authority over me because I am not a leagal adult until September. So the issue here is that when I get to Texas, I am my mother's child not her legal adult, ha ha ha. So if my mother told me I couldn't drive my vehicle around, I would have to listen to her... legally. By the way, my mother is as sexist as an man from the 50's...
2. My father is really chill hombre, he comes into my room and shoots my friends and I with the NERF gun I got him for Christmas. But on the same note, he is an adult who plays by respect and evidence. If you show him that you can do this on your own, he'll believe you and allow you to. But until you do, you can't. You know what I mean? So my dad and I are making the voyage down from Virginia to Texas: I drive half, he drives half, and a break inbetween. Well my father is using this travelling for long amouts of time as his form of approval. He will judge my driving and tell my mother whether or not I am a suitable driver to make other voyages for myself. So I would like his approval but I'm also determined to follow through with my word.

     You see how these little judgements and approvals are important? It'll really help me if every one passes along the thumbs up, but it isn't required. So mid-March is my main concern and the rest is future history!

     You're probably wondering why the title of this post is "Creepy Crawlies" and I'm thinking ,"HOLD YOUR DAMN HORSES!" Ha ha ha, not really. I just thought it would be funny to say that.(: Anyhow it goes back to a repitition of past events. You know that feeling you get when something has happened before and it seems like it's going to happen again? Yes? Well that is what I'm feeling. The tiniest things feel like the past is coming out of the shadows to reveal itself after all this time. Only a few of you will know what I'm talking about when I say "social networking sites makes terrorists out of females." I'll leave it at that.

The blame doesn't hurt anymore

Sunday night the thoughts, the images, and the fantasy that swam around my mind;
    I stared into his eyes and he was hardly the hotshot he always tried to be, he was but a child; lost and confused in the vastness of the world. His eyes pleaded for me to help him, to grab his hand before he plummeted into the abyss below. My eyes screamed back to his and called his name. My thoughts raced and I wished that my eyes could be a portal to them. I love you, my eyes pleaded. I may not be physically strong but I can try, with my all, to pull him from the dark depths in which his heart lurks.
     Tears began to form at his eyes and then at mine. I furrowed my brow and didn't take an eye off him for a second, I was truly worried. I grasped his hand hard, to signify my presence and for support... There was more in that two-minute stare down than I could ever explain in two hours.
     But every moment comes to a close at some point. He had to leave which meant I needed to say goodbye. We embraced in the kind of hug that we have when something goes wrong; the kind that I wish didn't mean that there was inbalance in our worlds. I squeezed him as tight as I could, standing on my tip-toes so my tiny physique could engulf him, protect him.
     "I love you," he whispered.
     I responed with a slow, coy, "I love you too."
     "I thought you said you couldn't love me."
     "I said I shouldn't."
     "I think you should..."
     "Why?"
     He left and I waited until I could hear him walking out the front door. Tears welled up in my eyes and slid down silently. I looked over at her and she gave me one of those pity smiles that seemed to say, "Well, I don't know..." I went home and thought to myself I wondered what I was going to do about the situation at present.
     I had confronted it as best I could, I went through with "senario five" from my last post. How correct was I? Quite. Did things change? No, I tried and the situation at present was twisted to be my fault. But I guess that it's okay.

 It's always my fault.

When it rains, it pours

I am typing this from my cellular device because I am spending the night at Kasey's and these thoughts must be recorded before I lose them in sleep...
I sit there and watch the happiness flow between them like the energy from an outlet to one's phone charger. I feel the anger build up inside me because you know, but they don't know. As a unit, they don't know. Part two of your unit is either ignorant or stupid. Part two has no idea that you and I know what Part two doesn't know. Part two is engulfed in you and your deception. I've played these scenarios in my head, where I tell Part two everything Part two needs to know.

Scenario 1.) The civil approach
To tears with anger because I've had enough, I pull Part two to the side and say "Grow up. This is not going to be forever. I'm sorry but this is about your counterpart. Don't talk, just listen." This would be the most noble of all the scenarios I am going to proceed to go through, which makes it the most illogical to do. I'm not this brave.

Scenario 2.) The loud approach
I grab Part two by the roots of all evil. I yell and I scream, but all in honesty. Part two doesn't listen. Part two will never listen. Part two hardly knows of my existence or rather, hardly acknowledges my existence. I know that Part two knows I exist, afterall we have exchanged words on more than one occasion; but not much more. But anyhow, Part two chooses not to hear me and you call me a liar. You comfort Part two and scowl at me, for the time being. You tell me that you'll drop me but still nothing changes. Part two doesn't believe me and I'm not sure whether the rest of them believe me or not. I wonder if their opinions of me change after my outburst at Part two and your response... This would be the boldest way to ensure things are put in thier place; but even so, I don't think much would change except that Part two would now carry a tiny bit of doubt.

Scenario 3.) The violent approach
I get in Part two's face and preach the truth. "WHAT THE HELL IS HEAVEN?" I get called a bitch and many other names that you all may imagine. I accept it but it's not enough for Part two. My only option is defense. I will not lay a finger on Part two, but you cannot get away with screwing with Passíon. This would be the most wreckless scenarios and one of the least likely to happen.

Scenario 4.) The secret scenario
I would befriend Part two without your knowledge because I know you would frown upon it. I write notes to Part two, unsigned and in a different calligraphy. I give the notes to a person to give to a person to give to Part two. Part two is ordered to keep them from you, else Part two remain ignorant. Maybe Part two doesn't respond, scenario ends there. Maybe Part two responds for the hell of it or just because. Maybe Part two takes it seriously, and learns how to be aware of what is going on within and round the comfortable unit in which Part two resides. This scenario is highly unlikely due to the sheer fact that I don't know people who are good with Part two. And Part two would probably inform you of the first note, therefore ending all possibilities of success on my part.

Scenario 5.) The keep your mouth shut and figure this out on your own scenario
I continue to leave Part two out in the rain. Though instead of keeping you nice and dry under my umbrella, that you do not appreciate, I tell you to get an umbrella for your unit because I'm tired of you using mine. I tell you that sometimes I have to be a bitch to fix things for everyone, and apparently my umbrella wasn't enough. I tell you that you have a unit to take care of and that as much as you may say I mean to you, I will never be your unit. Yes I know I sound like an asshole putting you to out in the pouring rain, but your unit has been there all along. And Part two didn't even know it was raining... I'm going inside my house and putting my umbrella away. I will look at you from my window as your unit huddles together for warmth, and you scowl. This scenario is the most likely to happen. Maybe it wouldn't happen like this, but I would really like it to. I'm tired of you convincing me that you need me because it's not true. You just want my umbrella. My fucking umbrella.

It's strange how well it fits.

Feeling sexy is nice, being loved is better

     Flattering? Yes. It's quite flattering to have various people adore your looks and even hint (or be quite blunt) about thier desire to have sexual relations with you. A self-esteem and self-confidence booster, I suppose. Sure it's nice once in a while, but it's not enough to be wanted, to be desired. There would be no point to a real romance if everything was based on the superfical. "I want to have sex with you" is completely meaningless if there is nothing behind it. And that brings us today's topic, love.
     I bet you saw that one coming right? I mean the title of this post pretty much spells it out for you, actually it does. Pause yourself, this is me digressing.
     I mean it's not hard to come to the conclusion that things done without love are merely that. Things. In government class I overheard these two guys talking about girls and such. I'm going to go through what I remember of that conversation, as I remember it. By the way, I am using fake names.

Guy 1: Man did I tell you? Me, so-and-so, and his brother picked up these girls at a party and they went to the hotel with us!!!
Guy 2: No way? Wait, I thought you went to that party at whatshisname's house.
Guy 1: Yeah man, that's how it started. Me, so-and-so, and his brother were all chillin' at whatshisname's party. That's where we met those girls and then the party got shut down so we had to bounce! Those chicks just came with us cuz we were gonna go to another party.
Guy 2: For real? Damn! That's crazy, did y'all even know them?
Guy 1: Well so-and-so and I didn't know them.
Guy 2: And they still got in your ride?
Guy 1: Yeah and then we took off to this other party that was supposed to be off the chain, but there was this huge dude at the door. He was all, "Bitches only." So I told him fuck that cuz I'm not leaving these girls here if we can't party either. So we decided to get a hotel room.
Guy 2: How much was it?
Guy 1: Like sixty bucks.
Guy 2: You paid it all?
Guy 1: Nah, it was about me and ten other people. We all chipped in. Well anyway man, dude! Sandra was all over me man. I was just tired and wanted to get some sleep cuz I had some place to be in the morning. So I was laying there and she come in the room and we started talking and getting close and all that.
Guy 2: Did you do anything man?
Guy 1: Nahhh. Randell came in and just came right inbetween us. He was all feeling up on her and she didn't do anything at first so I was like "Dammmnnnn..."
Guy 2: Was they fighting before? I know that Sandra don't play like that.
Guy 1: Yeah they was. But man, he was all touching on her so I just didn't want to mess with that shit. I went to the other bed and tried to crash.
Guy 2: Why didn't you do anything? Not to be an ass or anything, but you know that's never going to happen again. Ever.
Guy 1: Yeah man, I know. I mean I should have slept with Sandra but Randell man. I don't wanna be with a girl like that.
Guy 2: No one said you had to be with her.
Guy 1: Ha ha ha true. Nah, man but I regret it. Oh and did I tell you about Kayleen?
Guy 2: Nah, why? What's up with her?
Guy 1: She is all public about her sexual shit man. She was all going up to so-and-so and telling him that she just learned to unbutton and unzip pants with her mouth.
Guy 2: For real? That's crazy!
Guy 1: Yeah, after like thirty minutes she got it done and had his pants nearly off.
Guy 2: Man she already down there, I would've told her to finish the job, ha ha ha.
Guy 1: He did say that! She was all "Ew, that's gross." And just left him there in his drawers...

     I stopped listening after that or maybe I don't remember, I couldn't really tell you with the lack of sleep I've been racking up. *Yay* But you see, they were all about the action and not the feeling; those girls kinda seemed the same. There was no love in this conversation. It was just pussy and oppurtunity.
     I don't really remember where I was going with this post so maybe I'll add to it in another post. Oh and I made up for all my lost sleep with 3430945 hours yesterday!(:
     Sorry for straying off topic. I'll do a better post next time.

Spoons

Right now I am neglecting homework so I can type this while it is fresh in my mind. It's a secret that I've kept hidden for well over a year.

     In the end are my attempts trival and quixotic? Does anything I do matter? Hmmmm. It made me think of the spoons. I remember when I first asked you about them. You told me yes, that you did give them to her. But that was it. At the time you did not explain thier signifigance. I thought nothing of it and wondered why she rubbed it in my face.
     Months passed before you told me. You told me who gave them to you and what thier purpose was, and then you told me again that you had given them to her. I didn't cry but I wanted to. You told me about the time that she handed you one of the spoons and how angry you had become with that action of hers. I always imagine her bithday...
     Her dad at the head of the table, her older sister and little brother to the left of him, her mom at the table's other end, then her and you to the left of her mother. She had to be sitting next to her mom, I'm sure. You all had dinner and that was fine and dandy. You two go to her room and while she is turned the other way, you pull the little bag containing the spoons out. Her face lights up and then I hear her words over Myspace, "He wants to marry me! Ask him about the spoons!"
     The other occurance I can't ever seem to imagine except one part, the part where she forces the spoon into your hand. But I digress, this is not what I came here to say.
     I used go to sleep wishing that I would dream of the one who gave you the spoons. I would wish that that person would come to me in my sleep and whisper, "Tell him to get them back. Tell him I want him to get them back." Because deep in my heart, I didn't want her to have those spoons; especially since I knew thier meaning. And every night I would go through this process of thinking, "Tonight I'll be told and if not, I say nothing because it is not my place to interfere. If the person who gave him the spoons wants him to get them back, they will let it be known."
     I was never told. I'm not sure if you were but I wasn't. To this day, I hope that I am told to tell you to get the spoons back. But like I said, it is not my place to say anything because I'm nobody. Especially now.