not real

truth. truth. truth.
there seems to be this undercurrent theme in the way mankind speaks and acts. it's interesting to me how few people notice this or even take a little time to observe it. to me, i just see this want in people, for something to believe in, that man can confirm as true. it's obvious, really. people are always looking around, find groups, organizations, movements, that have a substantial amount of following. if there are followers, the foundation in that following has to have some substantial truth. right? that's what people hope, i think.
or maybe they just want affirmation that they don't believe in a lie. either way...
truth. truth. truth.

flying ace

It's Saturday. Should be the time that I try to make a dent in the homework I have. I'm not doing that. It is getting harder and harder to do the work I need to do for school. I just want to go out, find something new, and explore. Time to meet people that can have whatever misconceptions they want about me, and I wouldn't care. Why? I've never met them before, so why not? Sounds good. I guess I don't care what misconceptions people I know have of me, but it complicates relationships too easily to not care completely.

Out the window there are fluffy, brilliant clouds snailing across the sky. They move so slowly, the clouds, with not a care in the world. Not that they could have a care, since they are clouds, but that isn't the point. In graceful movement that is as slow as molasses, the clouds look down upon everything there is to see--ever. I'm just a little jealous.

It finally feels like fall here. You know, that time where melancholy encroaches upon every tree that blows in the wind and every leaf that falls to the ground, where it's not supposed to be. I'm convinced my senses heighten at this time of the year. I smell everything in the air as a breeze blows by me. My fingers and toes start to grow colder with each passing day. It is slightly debilitating, but I secretly love it. Colors seem to be more saturated and richer than any other time of the year and there's that indescribable feeling I get when I see birds take off, flying away for winter, together.

It's also the time where all of nature is getting ready for death, literally or symbolically, and waiting for the new life that's going to come. Maybe that is why everything seems so melancholy.

ambitious princess

I have become easily frustrated with myself, lately. It seems as if I can never accomplish what I want to accomplish. But I believe I'm beating down on myself for no reason. I'm just taking on way too much. I can accomplish all of these things, but not at once. I have become so overbearing on Chloe that I get mad at Chloe because Chloe can't do anything. So, I tell myself now, "That's not necessary, Chloe." It feels better to be thinking this. I just have to take things one at a time, or even two at a time. Because five hundred at a time doesn't exactly work.

I guess I was just a little ambitious princess. And talking to myself in third person did help.

I resorted back to pen and paper for a little while. This morning I took out my diary and wrote to my heart's content for an hour. It was absolutely and completely pure bliss. Then I spent the next forty-five minutes after that writing letters to be sent off by postage stamp. Sometimes I feel as if the computer should never have been invented. By actually taking pen to paper, so much more emotion can be brought out. It could be in the appearance of the penmanship or maybe the tear stains on the paper.
So this cyber journal has been set aside for a little while.

chipmunk cheeks

Opinions are something silly. We spend hours and forever trying to formulate our own opinions, learning of other peoples' opinions, hoping no one ever has a bad opinion about you.
I had to sit all by myself with chubby cheeks to realize that opinions don't matter as much as we think they do. That ending thought leaves me a little lonely, but I feel free. Is that a bad thing?

technology is a dead bird

"we saw the milky way at night"
http://marsargo.bandcamp.com/
take a listen

i wish to be peter pan.

goodness, i'm so small.
i like it, honestly. it seems i'm alone in the way i think sometimes. there's a constant need for explanation in clarifying. but in my stature, i feel as if i can easily fade away into the woodwork and say that i am the wallpaper. i rest besides my mind, conversing with my being, fully understanding everything. no explanation is necessary.
on my own and alone. it's good sometimes.
sometimes.

self evaluation from a second party

"Chloe, you're doing it again."

"Doing what again?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I know, I know. It's so hard not to give in, you know. To not let mindless teasing bury deep, not let someone else's problems become yours, not let the college board eat your brain and very self away, not let disasterous moments eat away life."

"Take a stand. Don't let it make you into something you're not. I know you don't want to let it bring you down, but you are letting it."

"I know..."

"Stop it."

"I'm trying; it's too hard."

"No. It isn't. Stop it."

"I'll keep trying. I promise."

"I won't stop bothering you about this. I promise."