Stormi Skye

     Chinese III midterm was today. Of course, I didn't finish. And what I did complete  had to be half wrong. Who knew there was a difference between 'right now' and 'at this moment'? Apparently it has something to do with 'at this moment' being more of like, "at this moment, I am typing" compared with 'right now' being more of a "right now, i am saving this document" except, the 'right now' is used in a reply, i.e Mom: did you do feed the dog? Sam: I am right now (runs to go feed the dog). Like the kid who's got a plate of broccoli and his mom asks if he ate it. "Yes" the kid would say, then cram it into his mouth. Excuse? Whatever. I hate that word.
     The words 'What Ever' just seem so...eww. Like obsession.                 Obsession is such an ugly word.
     So the bell rings and off we go to our fourth period class. We have no yearbook midterm, so here I am, blabbering away while I email my best friend, eat wheat thins with those cute and delicious little baby-bell Gouda cheeses all wrapped in wax, and drink away at the most perfect drink to ever come in a plastic bottle: Vitamin Water. It's 10:10, make a wish. *wish* so anyways, conversations across the room tend to pull me in, not that I'm purposely eavesdropping, but with only seven total people in the class, including the teacher, it's not hard to hear. The topic of names came up. A girl, Codee, said her mom almost named her Stormi Skye. Hah. Mine wanted to name me Brooke Lynn. Like the city...Is that...normal? It seems normal, especially when compared to her FIRST choice; Emocculatta. That was my great grandmother's name on my dad's side. She was Italian. They would've called me Molly. Nothing against all the Molly's out there, but I don't think I would've liked it. I'm good with my own name, and it's given way to some pretty interesting nicknames too. Bizzy-Bee (which is ironic, considering my allergy to bees, wasps, and stinging things with wings) turned to Bizzy, which proceeded to morph (completely unintentionally) into Izzy. I like that. Izzy. It's a long story as to where the Marx came from. And yes, Marx, like the author. Like the founder of the Marxist/pre-communist frenzy. Communism, which would've been successful and flourished if not for the rotten core of the human population. That's right, every person, if given the right tools and environment, corrupts. There is darkness in everyone. But there is also goodness. In EVERYONE. There's good in you and in me. There was goodness in Countess Elizabeth Bathory; the woman helped destitute women and their children who were prisoners of war. There was good in Adolph Hitler; he had a dream for a perfect world, and he was a vegetarian besides, unable to bear the thought of inflicting harm on innocents, ironic as it seems; in his mind, jews, and the others who's death he was responsible for, were less than innocent. There was good in Charles Manson, otherwise he wouldn't have cherished the memory of his mother's hug. Tell me, who then is truly evil?
     Alright-y, time for my nap.

It's Never Too Late To Be What You Might Have Been

Okay, so the blog doesn't exactly portain (sp?) to the title, so what? But here goes: not too long ago, I went through a pretty crappy breakup. I thought I'd be fine the first day, then the realization of loss and utter lonlieness set in and I was engulfed in a smothering blanket of depression. Nothing was worth livng for, nothing really mattered because I had lost the thing in this world most important to me. Some sad ones I saw floating around...
*you can't buy love, but you can pay heavily for it
*the saddest thing in the world is to love someone who used to love you
*LOVE CAN SOMETIMES BE MAGIC, BUT MAGIC CAN SOMETIMES...BE JUST AN ILLUSION
For all of you going through the same thing, I did finally realize something quite important.
1-no boy is worth your tears, and when you find one that is, he won't make you cry
2-true love will never fade unless it was a lie
And some I made up...
*When you left, there was a total eclipse of my heart. But then I realized..that I was surrounded by stars.
It still hurts, sometimes, but then again, I'm hurt every day. The thing that really matters, is our ability to pick ourselves back up and keep going. To dance like nobody's watching, to work like we don't need the money, to live each day like your last (and no, i do not mean in bed and hopped up on morphine) and to love like we've never been hurt. Maybe I do give my heart away too easily, but that's part of living. I can't bear to be reserved and closed off for fear of being hurt, crippled from the pain, because then that fear becomes a cage. And a cage is what I fear most.
By the way, Tyler,
After time has passed, and I havn't seen you for a while, I start to think that I'm okay. That it won't hurt anymore. But then I see ou walking down the hall, smiling at her.I pass with no acknowledgement and know, it was all a lie.
The moment we're born, we begin to die. Our hearts set beating to race against time. I am sick. So sick, but aren't we all? Ready, waiting for a final call to our destination. Life is short but you played it well. If the world's our stage, then I think you deserve a standing ovation.
But it's not so bad...
I was warned against people like you, but i never would listen. Now i almost wish I had, because now I can do nothing but watch my tears glisten. Stare into the mirror, looking for a friend, remembering now, I always will, that the hottest love has the coldest end. Look into the sun so I can't see you with her. But I look back, and guess, it's okay. I won't cry because it's over, instead, I can smile because it happened. And that time we had, however brief, was a highlight in my life.
So, you see, everythings gonna be okay!

Does it have meaning? You tell me.

On the rare occasion that i get to sleep BEFORE one in the morning, i often awake to find some scripts, some mindless blather scrawled on the walls of my bedroom. It's my handwriting, yes, but I am left with no recollection of having committed the act. For this reason, I have removed every form of permanent ink, and have left myself with naught but childish crayons and washable magic marker. Assuming that some of you might be insane enough to care about the things i find, here.

P.S. there is no form here whatsoever, at least, none with a pattern that i can follow...

1) The Warming Moon Daylight Breaks. Kiss it goodbye A lifeless Ordinary.
2)Almost sunshine Run to the hills In our shoes; look through new eyes.
and a bunch of other stuff I'd never heard of, but then i ran into some known ones...
1) These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die Like fire and powder, which as they kiss, consume.~shakespear
2)A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; domestic fury and fierce civil strife...All pity choked with custom of fell deeds...
3) But woe the while! Our fathers' minds are dead, And we are governed by our mothers' spirits...
Don't ask why i found this of al things, but bear with my insanity while I arrange the jumble of phrases by author...I think
1)Music is what feelings sound like
Never mind. I can barely read it all...

I sat alone last night, bored out of my mind and exhausted, a victim of insomnia. Without my cell phone, I was left lonely and in an all around melancholy mood. So I decided to start blogging. I've never had a blog before, so I'm really not sure where to start, but here goes.
     About me: I'm a generally friendly and cary person, easily distracted and easily amused. I procrastinate like no other, and am all around bipolar. There are like a million different parts of me, some of which I haven't discovered yet, and some that give me the maturity level of an eight year old. I have a passion for photography, I like silver a million times better than gold, and like animals.

Do I just ramble on about my life? Or is there supposed to be some...reasonably valid content?
Ask me a question and I will do my best to satisfy, given that you're not a creeper or a pedophile.

     Please leave comments!!!! But don't be too harsh; it IS my first blog.

                                  Peace, Love, and the wonder of gift return,
                                                                       your, Izzy Marx