I am not myself you see

I heart the Lion King

Really, I can't even think about the whole BP thing. I get very depressed. Just to clarify, I am takling about the oil spill. Really, if I was living in the states on that coast by myself, I would probably have to move away. And this is not because i don't care. It's the complete opposite. I get to overwhellemed to think about it to often. And I know that, minus becoming a rich millionaire and then funding a huge clean up effort, or quitting school and hippy-ing it down to the coast so that I can spend the next ten years cleaning up the coast, I can't really do anything about it. So I try not to think about because I get stressed and ulitmately depressed. And that is the case with most all of the problems of the world. None the less, they get to me more often then I would like to say.

And then I just get sad, quiet and anti-social.

And I don't really know what to do about it.

none of it

I'm to young to be without hope

.

It's sad. All of it

i love you but you make me sad

Maybe I need more vitamin D.

Or more time with my friends

or time alone, reading and watching movies.

Because today I am not happy. That is not to say that I am sad, because being sad and being not happy are two entirely different things. Believe me, I know them both quite well, and if there were people, one could compare them to say, a zoologist and a cryptozoologist. And where the profession of these two individuals both sound quite similar and you might think, unless you are otherwise informed, that a cryptozoologist is simply some one that works in the crypts of a zoo, but you would be sadly mistaken. For they don't even work in the same building, or study the same animals. It's the same thing with being not happy and being sad. They may sound they same, but do not be lead down the path of literary misunderstandings of the English language. 

Stampede's done, which means that summer can now commence. We are sorry for the delay. Honestly, I didn't think that I was going to be so tired at the end of Stampede, and want to sleep so bad. It was learning experience as my family, oddly enough, felt the need to tell me time and time again. I love you all, but really, I already knew how to put in a day's worth of work. Honestly. I'm not Zac here. 

"you'll start to wonder ff you're ever gonna make it by, you'll start to think you were born blind"

Ugh I don't know. There were words, like clouds floating in my head. Then I forget them. And now I don't know. I could write about many things right now, about the Minnesota Iceman, the missing link shot in Vietnam, my love and yet lack of respect for cryptozoologist, how I love my friends and how I miss many of them, of my fear of losing summer, my need to travel to the library soon, of my inability to keep up contact with some people that i love, even when it is they that have sent the first facebook message, how I hate facebook, how I miss my mom, trying to locate ground zero of my melancholy mood and my inattention to grammar in this paragraph located above. Whatever. 

One thing that I did want to say is something that i am guilty of myself, and that is negativity. I just don't like it. I know that there is a time and a place. I have been there and it can be really nice to just bitch about everything and be upset, and rage and steam and fume. But honestly, it's my least favourite thing. 

I have a motto, one that I forget about sometimes; if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. 
I like it because in encourages positivity in some. or just quietness. 

Something I just found out; Rob Thomas is the lead singer of Matchbox 2o. No wounder I love him so much

I feel as if this blog is jumping all over the place and it can hold no thread of common sense. Unless that thread is a lack of a thread. 

So to keep up with that thread, I have this stupid paragraph that will shorty follow this sentence. how do yo know that you know yourself? When do you know that you know yourself? is it that moment where sometimes, you would rather just sit, or walk, or bike with your own thoughts and not say a single word for the rest of the day, as if an evil octopus women stole your voice in exchange for legs so you could meet the boy whom has stolen your heart while she tries to take over the sea from Triton, your father? Because if that is even a stepping stone, i do believe I am well on my way.

if anything, it's nice to know i'm not the only one

I don't really want to write a blog right now. I am pretty exhausted, but I would rather have this worn out blog than the really angry one that I have sitting in the top spot of my home page right now. So if you see me post a bunch of pictures in the next few days, please understand, it's part of the clensing process. You see after I get out my anger, I feel kinda silly about it later. I do believe it was justified this time, but I just don't think that everyone needs to see it plastered all over the place like a blood stain, angry and red. So I will put this one up instead. I am excited about stampede being over, as much as i do love it, I could use a day of rest. I am excited for sunday, and then monday afterwards. I have post secret and a person that brings smiles to my soul on the plan for the day. And then an L4 sleepover soon? Yes?

Good night

maybe this one doesn't need a picture

I don't fancy myself a person with a lot of patience, in fact I know from a wealth of experience that I have very limited stocks within my bones and blood. And when exercised, when the muscle that pumps patience to my impatient head gets tired, anger builds like lactic acid after a marathon, and the muscle cramps. And at that point I am a bitch. I know it. I rage and fume in my own head to the point where if you ask me the wrong thing, I have the entire speech to bitch you out rehearsed till I know it line by line, and I want to hit someone.

That point was reached today. I squeezed, and cut, all by myself two boxes of lemons. That's eight sleeves. Fuck you. I work harder than that other ass. And you don't make people cry.

Two more days, two more days.

I have a great desire to bitch someone out right about now.

I have discovered that I am allergic to lemon juice. It gives me small, red, angry hives as if a colony of parasitical poppies have sprouted on my forearm. And I have discovered the one person that I dislike with more intensity and ferocity than another that I can bring to mind at the moment.  Congratulations ass hole, you win.

 And honestly, I don't expect to be given a pat on the head just for doing my job, but what ticks me off, more that you can fathom reading these words over a computer screen, is watching some lazy ass, smelly, ugly fuck receive all the praise for dragging his ass when I am the one working twice as hard as the two of them put together. Seriously, that is how you are going to treat me, you smelly high school drop out? I quite honestly have more education than you, and I am quite ready to show you where you can put that supervisor position of yours.

Hi, my name is Rachel and today I am really angry

Fuck off

all the pretty lights

I am really tired and oddly hungry. It has been a long view days, and I am sure that there is more to come. My u key isn't working that well. I am tired

boy oh boy

You are the best thing I have ever seen.

what they need in this world is some love

Today was a very good day