Comments and messages are our sole forms of communication anymore. OR (We've come a long way, princess.)

And sometimes I'd have it no other way. I'm the king of over-analyzation and incorrect conclusions. forgive me. I type whatever's swirling in this head in the wee hours of the night/morning without any concern for consequences. but I was designed to break my own heart and my only real crime is this obsession with documenting it. it's all (not) mapped out. and I am still lost. exposed to this audience I call my conscience and maybe I should listen but I won't. sometimes I think I'm the only kid who reads this drivel; I honestly know better. ill keep a sharper mind in the weeks to come. (no promises). I instinctively typed "weaks". gah.

P.S. that last entry actually had more than that one sentence in it, btw.

The story of my li(f)e.

responses to "how are you doing" are always a matter of who's asking. just keep telling myself I'm over you. yet with each interaction, I'm left with every feeling you've ever given me and I don't know why. like how those eyes can hatch butterflies within my gut and trembling in my voice and how sing alongs with you make me want to smile 'til I die. you mentioned tonight how you've got weak knees. you haven't any idea. but he's got your attention and we all can tell. and these are the thoughts that render sleep an ineffable concept. I hate being so pathetic. sleep easy, sweetie. I'm wide awake.

forced shut eyes & perfection on my pillowcase.
you are still my dream girl. :-(

Sexy back.

"I hide behind these books I read while scribbling my poetry. Like art could save a wretch like me with some ideal ideology that no one could hope to achieve and I am never real, it's just a sketch of me and everything I've made is trite and cheap and a waste of paint, of tape, of time."

Uh-pdates.

listen to Imogen Heap's "Hide and Seek" when you decide you want to start living.

shows coming up: dashboard w/ brand new in san diego. the elected at the glass house. deathcab for cutie w/ jenny lewis and the watson twins at bren events. yay times ten.

I need to watch The Last Kiss and the Science of Sleep. come with.

I still heart guitar hero.

ed templeton's next art exhibit is going to be the bee's knees and I can't wait.

no p!atd w/ what's her face. dc and bn alone instead. :-)

its funny, but I kinda miss matt frazier. haha. fun kid.
and lauren menor, even though I worked with her today.

I finally passed super mario bros 3 w/ no cheats. yay.

new store = <333.

liz m. is a sight for sore eyes. & she's got personality to die for. (small crushes and nervous smiles and speeding hearts and sweating bullets aimed at myself.) swoon.

speaking of sore eyes, I am now required to wear a contact lens. yes, just one. weak. :-(

new brand new record on 112106. lifechangerforsure.

this iPod's on shuffle and every other song is either by bright eyes or saves the day or cursive or minus the bear and I don't mind. :-) times ten.

less writing more living. end.

& all i see are misspelled, poorly written paragraphs of self-acclamation.

a patron saint of liars and fakes. I read and hear words from some "good" and "upstanding" individual while all I observe is some poor attention-starved kid trying incredibly hard to stand out with no avail. get a life. you're just wasting precious time PRETENDING to be someone you're not when you could be using this time to actually BE that someone. maybe if you did, THEN people would see a literal change for the better instead of hating your guts so much like the way they do now. walk the walk and stop screaming the talk because all it'll get you are high expectations that you won't ever (even pretend to) meet.

keep telling yourself and the world that you're "cured".
you are the worst case of denial ever witnessed.

You'd make a great secret if I could keep you but we all spill our guts.

a click on the receiving end, and you're off. off doing the very things I hate you doing. with the very people I hate you to be around. and all I want is for you to be good. be good. pleasepleaseplease. I wish you could see how much I care. or sometimes I wish I meant more to you than that devil on your shoulder you choose to listen to. but all I am is a dreamer with your well-being in mind. and all you are is a nightmare with "better" things to do. I'm all out of things to say to you. at the very least, that damn dancefloor must've looked a hell of a lot better with you on it, all dressed in your Sunday best.

"be sure to open up your eyes."
this quote goes out to you.

or quite possibly myself.

Pluto is not a planet.

and I'm surprised that this one still is. this place is so messed up, it isn't deserving. I am so tired of everything around me. like just when you think you've got it all figured out, "it all" begins falling apart. vicious cycle. sift through my pile of "never again's". noticing that some aren't. just hopes. & your card's come up again. I guess its that time of year. girls like you remind me of how infantile and naïve I can be. you're beautiful. but the sparkle in your eyes diminishes more and more each time I interact with you. noticable only to me. you are indecisive and incredibly difficult. you long for something that sure as hell isn't me. sometimes I don't even know why I try so damn hard when you treat me the exact opposite of how I treat you. attempting time after time to bring out the best in you just brings out the worst in me. I'm exhausted and feeling terrible by the end of each day spent with you. wishing you'd take compliments without the usual "i know" eyeroll. sometimes I wonder if anybody thinks about you as much as I do. tonight was horrible for the both of us but with every moment and with all sincerity, I hope you're feeling okay. does that make me sweet or an idiot? i don't really do things for the sole purpose of feeling appreciated, but if you did, it sure would make my day.

p.s. myspace is a joke.

Drix in search of self.

and insomnia ensues. I truly abhor this feeling of h-elp/ope -lessness. but I suppose these interminable nights leave me time to continue (un)productive hobbies such as this. this is my playroom therapy. this tiny keyboard is my "ms. a." this is my escape from the smallness that I feel. I can be as big as I want and these keys let me act how I want. welcome to thursday night(mare).

this is only decipherable to one girl.

You dont do it on purpose but you make me shake.

Cantgiveupthedream. (she will destroy me.)

what's the opposite of amnesia? because that's what I have. because sometimes I can't find my way around my memories. always having to take different routes. and I think you were the best one. its like it was never really going anywhere, with innumerable breakdowns but really, it made for the best trip. I'm completely out of place (everyw)here. and at the same time not. its like it always was. I am always on the verge of love or giving up. or that's at least what I've convinced myself of today -- tomorrow it will be something else. I've got aluminum foil on my bedroom windows to block the heat and sun. but at night, it blocks out any amazing views of the moon and stars. I long to marvel at the pulchritude of your smile and eyes and being, but I don't want to get burned. and I think I'm all sorts of crazy. maybe I'll just go to sleep and wake up ten years old in a shabby house in valinda.

because how could any of this be real.

This phone will be the death of me.

think myself to pieces. and writing too fast to keep up. make up for true blues and dead reds. that doesn't even make sense. but nothing ever does anymore it seems. rhymes and (no) reasons. just like random poems via text messages at three in the morning. I can't wait until autumn and winter. visible breath and brilliant burning colors of the leaves are somehow associated with feeling okay to me. and just as easily as you can run home from problems, you can run home TO them. journal writing counts. its funny/terrible how its kind of what I'm known for now. and all this time, I've wanted to be so much more. this may be all (the friend) I have.

written while seated on a bench at the Orange County Museum of Art. "happy places" and melancholy thoughts.

(Dis)re-guarded tramp-led (h)ear(t)s. (i dont mean a word.)

sometimes you spend every waking moment and most sleeping ones thinking and wishing and dreaming about one heart, one person. and the years pass. they let it slip, or you do. God knows where it all begins or ends. but as it falls to pieces, you keep grabbing and collecting them not like for a museum of artifacts that once mattered, but like you're going to put those broken pieces back together. except there are always a couple pieces missing each time.

breathe deep. slow your (un)beating heart. these winding roads in your mind confuse. remember a time before you always felt like this. try to remember, drix. you want it to be simple. you make it complicated. sometimes i wish i could re-engineer the single path from my heart to the tip of my tongue and let my head have a chance to(o). i haven't any huge dreams or wishes, i just want to be at least "okay." but then it all comes down to my word versus your word versus the world's word and i dont think i want to anymore. im tired and worn. my head's full, and my eyes empty.

when I wake up at the crack of noon, the world's blurry. it barely comes in and usually stays out of focus. this is when its at its worst. awake from dreams of you to realize that none of it was real, possibly ever. spend late nights eating ungodly amounts of ben & jerry's chocolate brownie ice cream and watching fresh prince or saved by the bell reruns with that frankie j record playing in the background.

i'll let this eat at me for five more seconds and I'll willingly stop the moping and find my feet. this feeling won't last forever and I won't let it. start smiles in five. four. three. two. one.

long"live"ourcarcrashhearts.

"Finally got the nerve to tell you how much you mean to me."

it's kind of funny how people can windowshop on your life or critique your writing on style and grammar and grace. i hope they at least enjoy the read. I don't know how my mind works or if it even does. nights like these are spent writing and writing and waiting.

they ask God for an end to poverty and hopes for cures to incurable diseases like cancer. i bother God with selfish pleasures and hope for relief/a cure for a hurricane/heartache named (you know who). there's not a need for details or specific names, but when was the last time there was a need to? hurt is what i try so not to seem, but it's the only word that comes to mind. you haven't any idea how i felt on that car ride back because i covered any agony with forced smiles and nods and "i understand's". what it really and literally felt like: a one thousand pound man sitting on my chest, suffocating me while decking me in the face with brass knuckles on. but i know that with God's grace, the thousand pound man will slowly lose weight as the the days go by, and the pain will eventually diminish. but i'll continue to keep crossing my heart or t's because fingers give me away everytime.

i SO want to be who God wants for you, the person you've longingly prayed for. but maybe we just weren't meant for each other and i've got to acknowledge that. I've also got to acknowledge the fact that I need to trust God and His plan so much more as well as sincerely live as the kind of man that a girl like you prays for. I want to exceed expectations. I want to be more than what people percieve me as. I want to be a child of whom God is well pleased. these are just some goals worth striving for, and I know someday things will fall into place. whether or not you will be a part of that is yet to be seen, but I truly hope you are. if not, I know its for the best. just because our relationship might be moving unpredictably as of now, please please please don't write us off. please.

so there you go. i'm glad that we had the chance to talk this over face to face. these feelings for you probably won't leave me for some time, but this was all a learning experience and I don't regret anything that's ever happened between you and I because I've enjoyed every moment so far. and I know we'll make many more memories to come. if you ever need help, advice, comfort, encouragement, someone to chill with or confide in, a dashboard singalong, or just another reading suggestion, please don't hesitate to call because your company is always welcome. but just so you know, you're a hard girl to get over, hoochie. This'd all be so much easier if you weren't the prettiest thing living. and if you didn't have the personality and intellect and everything I've ever wanted in a person.

"and I'm still here, waiting there to catch you if you fall."

Little blue hairclips.

yellow finger and toenails match the yellow on my belly when I actually build up the nerve to make eye contact. you really can't comprehend how my heart beats under, through, and out of this chest when I receive so much as a wave or nod of acknowledgement from you, or even worse(for my heart, not my eyes or any other aspect of my being), a simple smile. but I'd have it no other way because this billion butterfly-filled stomach and thoughts of "I can't believe you said that" and "you're such an idiot" to myself the second I end a sentence during a conversation with you tell me you're so much more than just "some girl I know." and I'd give almost anything to be more than just "some boy you know."

EDIT: btw, this pasadena trip may be a lifechanger.
but please please please, not for the worse. EDIT: Frick.
EDIT: Haha. Okay, we're on again.

Hearts of gold vs. hearts of stone.

always chased, never caught. I wouldn't know that feeling. I want to show you all my jealousy and insecurity and instability and have you (not) care. because I'm addicted to the way I feel when I'm with you. and your eyes are always rolling, but when mine do, i tilt my head so that somehow they were still stuck on you.

I wish you could detect the sincerity in every word I write and that it would make some kind of a difference in how you'd perceive me. but wishes never seem to come true, EVEN when I send those stupid chain letters within the 60 second time limit.

do I stand a chance? (not rhetorical).

Die young and save yourselves.

brand new has always been my favorite band, but last night truly confirmed that notion. seeing them in as intimate a setting as the glasshouse was beautiful and mind-blowing. beautifully mind-blowing. sheer brilliance wrapped in a time span of one and a half hours. I wish it didn't have to end because I haven't felt this way in years.

if being in love is anywhere close to this feeling...

"One time I hit my vagina bone there, and it hurt so bad."

... the response, courtesy of heather after getting my nuts smashed while changing a trash can. I didn't know whether to be turned on by the inane statement or to gag. haha.

things that've made me happy lately are as follows:

backslaps. not stabs. lowrise jeans. ripped. text messages. damien rice. the hills. jeremie q. the phrase "vagina bone." thousand island dressing. beach bbq's. nerf guns at work. quiet time and meditation. family fun days. lauren and how she listens to Brand New's "Deja Entendu" everyday. independence day and fireworks and the fact that you wore your glasses and had a ponytail tonight. the new dc record. filipino movies with people who don't speak tagalog and people who speak too MUCH tagalog. patrick stump's rendition of "so sick." no work, all play. living it up with everyone I can live it up with because it'll never be this way again.

God, this summer is the best.

I love you but right now i just dont like you.

drama fo' yo' muh f'n mama. please be as emo as you like because I did all the right things and now I know not to treat you like a queen, especially when I'm neither interested in nor in any attempt to be your king. I've always been there for you and yet I constantly fall victim to your ever inconsistent mood swings. after all this time, I've still never benn able to figure you out. I never will. this is no way I want to spend my summer (or my life). I sure as hell have nothing to apologize for, so if theres going to be any kind of reconciliation, you'll have to take the first humble step. awkward glances and playing "ghosts in the hallway" just doesn't cut it, sister. you and I have endured and invested too much for almost seven years into this friendship, to just ball it up and throw it out the window. lets not blow it.

"I know you can list your friends but you can't count on them."

Insomnia's a pet peeve but it keeps me from dreaming of you.

sosleepycantsleep. might as well random rant. new dashboard album comes out. best buy at 9am w/ heather because we're dc dweebs. she doesn't fancy you, btw. I've heard her reasoning for why and I can't argue her points. I'm a sucker and we(ve) know(n) it. shes a hero and therapist and safety net for me everytime. thanks for st icking/aying up for me. you're one of the only girls that can put a smile on my face without smacking it right off moments later. at least so far.

sometimes I love the feeling of knowing secrets about people that don't think you know. I'm (not) sorry that I'm going to keep doing what you hate that I do. but I've got a feeling that it won't be for long. and words like "we'll hang out soon" are easier said than meant. dishonest tones of voice and stone faces. all these lips are good for are words telling you a nonchalant "I like your hair", while all my mind is good for is thoughts like "take me I'm yours." and btw -- comments aren't disabled. but this boy already is.

both pirates and warped tour -- july 7th. how awesome is that. maybe ill marry a supermodel and win a lifetime supply of coca cola that day too.

written in a dark room by some kid drinking warm uncarbonated sprite. its like 4am and this wasn't intended to make much sense. get it or don't.

nonsensical blogs are the new whatever.

A city on a hill cannot be hidden.

I just read Matthew 5 for my devotion. and I know that I'm not the godliest man, but I pray that through my life, people around me who don't know Jesus would see the difference between myself and this world. God's been so good to me, especially in this past year. for once, I've been able to keep myself disciplined and consistent in my relationship with Him with His help even amidst trials and the most confusing of times. thank you Lord for Your faithfulness and grace and patience with me. I've made countless mistakes and have st(r)ayed away from You, yet You've still chosen to call me son. I know of no way to repay the favor but please believe that i'll try my best. Kn/ow(n) this ever complicated heart of mine.