but the dark between my heart and his is as good as a diamond chain

Is it weird that I was looking forward to cleaning up my house today? It probably is. But I was glad of the task. It's something that satisfies me, calms me. It's an accomplishment measurable by visible results. All other accomplishments stress me out. I like soft hair, and affectionate drunks. I like the fact that I'm starting training tomorrow. I like that we have no school for a week. I like having a house to myself. I like being only accountable to myself. I like holding hands and snuggling. There is a direct correlation between the desire for this and my state of inebriation.

I had more things to write, more words to say. I think they were given away, plastered to my lips and then stuck to others' skin by drunken kisses.
I just might post latter.

stop your running it’s you you’re running from

 

I

I don't know what happened to me. I don't know what happened to kid who would write out her notes for weeks before an exam. Who would study as soon as she got home. Who got things done. Who cared. Thing is, I don't care anymore, not enough to put in the effort. That girl should come back and help this one. Just until June. 

II

I have a temper, I know. Some days I live like dynamite sweating nitroglycerin. It's some part of me  shutting down, overriding logic for pride. Like a flood gate. I think that would be my fatal flaw, what the sirens song would speak to. But, for the most part, I think I'm pretty good at avoiding this. I carry some foresight in my front pocket to avoid explosive situations. 

Emotions, no matter how volatile, need to be respected. Because no matter the situation, emotion does not adhere to logical, or explanation. As such cannot expect react in a linear logical explanation accessible to all. Especially when temperamental.

So I need to let mine fester, let it filtrate through my system. And so it's best to let it alone. Let me alone. Let the venom leave so I don't spit any in your face. I know this. you might suspect that the pinpointing of this issue would help me eradicate it. But it doesn't. Probably because I have found that burning it all out is the best and only way for me to deal with it. Maybe I like feeling the anger, it burns everything down, all the good all the bad and I start anew. 

III

My name is Rachel, I'm 18 in 24 days. I believe that what's done is done and nothing can change that. So I don't find myself regretting much. I don't deal well with stress. My airways and veins conglomerate in my chest, till the tension is so great I'm sure that I will die of a heart attack one day. The same feelings are produced when brackets aren't closed. I cry a lot more now a days then I ever remember and I don't know why. I love Harry Potter. I love many things. I like having long red hair. I like video games. I like holding hands. Some days I really need a hug. I hate being in extended contact with other peoples fabric, (clothes, furniture, carpets) particularly if I am not all to comfortable with that individual, or I think that they are dirty. I don't hide too much, but I hide out when I don't want to share. Spoken word is a toxic smoke in my room when the tea lights are on. I like to be alone. 

++ having someone you didn't expect reach out to make you feel better 

TO TIRZAH 

Whate'er is born of mortal birth
Must be consumed with the earth,
To rise from generation free:
Then what have I to do with thee? 

The sexes sprung from shame and pride,
Blowed in the morn, in evening died;
But mercy changed death into sleep;
The sexes rose to work and weep.

Thou, mother of my mortal part,
With cruelty didst mould my heart,
And with false self-deceiving tears
Didst blind my nostrils, eyes, and ears, 

Didst close my tongue in senseless clay,
And me to mortal life betray.
The death of Jesus set me free:
Then what have I to do with thee?

and feel--they know not what but care;

Today I got a grad dress and it makes me feel very pretty. And I like it very much. But at the same time. I'm, apprehensive. Because it was expensive. Because it's a light pink. Because it's very different from what I imagined I wanted. So I wear a crease in my brow.
I do like it. Very much.

Today is not how I imagined it would go. It jerked, flowed and ebbed. Passed quickly or seemingly not at all. I don't remember certain moments. They slipped into my mind like water down cold gray glass and then disappeared. Because you couldn't keep track of it anymore. I'm confused. And tired, no drained. Covered in gray. I have an essay to write. I should go on a run. I want to sleep.

I don't know. I feel blurred. Like a weak patronus. I want to watch Disney movies and play video games with someone that will hold my hand. But that wont happen.
Not today.

Not for some while.

fuck. off.

Today was such a shitty day.
I know in the long rung it doesn't matter
I know that I can just blame things
like terrible jugging.
But that doesn't change things.
That doesn't change the fact that this is the first in I haven't qualified
 In all my years of debate
And this is my last year.
It should have been my best.
And I've worked so hard. I wanted to make it so bad
Since the tenth grade
And now all I can think of is all that I did wrong. 

I should invest in waterproof mascara.