Why? *Rant*

I act like everything's perfect, and a lot of the time it's good, but my life is nowhere near perfect. I'm the baby of my family, at fifteen, I am helping take care of my nineteen year old sister. Tonight we had another episode, and I don't know how much more of these I can take. I feel like it's my fault. I never really realized this, but I don't have a lot of true friends, and that's probably because I'm way too different than the people here. I'd like to make YouTube videos, but I don't have a camera and I know people would make fun of me. I also don't show anyone my writing, because they would make fun of me. I'm too different. I want to go somewhere else, but I would never survive in a school I didn't know. I'm too shy and awkward. Man, I just really wanna know why I am dealing with this. I mean, God doesn't give us anything we can't handle. So why do I feel like I can't handle this? Why do I want to just run away and not come back? Is it because I don't fit in? Is it because my own family doesn't understand me? Is it because I'm not sure of ANYTHING? If you read these and need someone to talk to,  I promise I will listen.
(Always the listener, never the talker, right?)
Welp, goodbye, although I don't know who I'm talking to because no one reads these.....

Why?

Why? Why can't I lose weight? I diet all the time, I work out, with band...which isn't really working out, but it takes up all my time so I can't work out. Maybe I should just forget about trying to be skinny. But, it's so hard when I see clothes that I love, yet can't wear. I am going to conquer my weight! I  will do it! And, you guys are going to help me! Well, more like I'm going to help myself cause no one reads these..but yeah. Uhm, nothing really insightful in this blog...Maybe next time!

Memories.

I lay in my bunk, listening to the cacophony of whispers as the girls around me talk. I close my eyes, my mind drifting back to the days events. The morning started off oddly, being I had to get up earlier than normal. And then, we were late, and didn't get a cabin. But, as I lay there, I realize, even though it wasn't one of the easiest days, I'm really glad I came, because I already feel so much closer to God. It's like, He's preparing me, for something so much bigger than I know. My mind starts wondering slightly, and I say a prayer, long thanking Him and praising Him. My mind starts shutting down and I say goodnight, already mostly asleep.
{I will have four more of these in the next couple days. They are all about my time at church camp and how I feel. You don't have to read it, but I would really appreciate it if you do!! (:}

My Emotions.

The emotions sweep over me and I close my eyes, willing away the memories. 'Its over, done with. Don't dwell on it.' I remind myself, slowing my beating heart. I bite my lip to hold back the warm tears pooling in my eyes. Why won't these feelings go away? It's been weeks, almost a full month! Why won't the memories fade?! When I open my eyes, I see him. The curve if his jaw, his smile, the way his eyes light up, the way he teased me and made me blush, and smile, the way his lips felt on mine, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the way his cheeks changed color when he blushed, even just slightly. And then, it ended and that when the anger hits. The way he just cast me aside like a piece of old meat, the way he stopped texting me, just have up on me. I think and think and think, trying to understand, but I never do, so I give up and just stare at something, focusing on nothing. 

First blog..Kind of excited (: Not really much of a blogger, also I'm really busy so please, don't be mad if I don't update EVERY DAY. K? K! Here's the first post! Enjoy! ;P

Two girls, both freshman, stand in front of our biology teacher's room, talking. Two more go and join them, possibly gossiping, most likely complaining about the four hour test we just finished. One girl writing in a composition notebook; The other students look at her as if she's the alien and they're the humans. She looks at them as though she's the one holding the pen, because she is. She controls their story, or at least what goes on the paper. Groups merge, a crowd assembles, two teachers walk among the students, talking quietly. Couples hold hands, hug, whisper things they're too afraid to say out loud. A few feet away a group sits, talking, about what, the writer doesn't know. Old friends, people she doesn't know, people that know of her skills but not her name. These people don't know her, except for a select few. Alone, always alone; always writing; thinking, planning. That's how she prefers it. There's more anger in her than people know, or would guess. These people, her classmates, disregard her, label her as the unsociable nerd, the band geek who's always alone. Well, they're wrong!





(Hehe I like colors! ~ Kailyn!)