I feel terribly lonely lately. As much as I find myself wanting to push certain people away in my life, I also find myself missing and longing to speak to them or be around them. I realize that I indirectly use people. I don't mean to, really, but I think in a way I do. I use them to fill in my loneliness, to make an attempt to fill up this void inside of me. I believe that I know what would fill that void, but the more I realize this the less I want it. I wish I never would have realized this, and then I could just keep searching and stop thinking. I want to feel like I did in Arkansas. When I didn't have to care about how I looked or was received, where I was accepted and loved, where I was called Kathlynn. Joel spoke to me and admitted he treated me like shit this past summer. It felt nice to know he's stopped blaming me, but part of me is still very unsure if this is water I wish to venture through. I feel so very fickle and unhappy. I wish I didn't feel so lonely. It really stinks when you're very best childhood friend lives very far away, and your very best friend lives even farther. I don't really like any of my friends anymore. They really don't interest me in any way. I don't wish to hear anymore complaints about they're perfect lives. I don't wish to listen to them speak in they're shrill voices. I was making one really good friend, but then her best friend moved back to school and well, that's gone now. I can't blame her though. If my best friend moved here I'd probably not be as close with her either. I'm beginning to see that the reason James and I are even friends is only because of our mutual hatred for everyone. Our whole friendship is based upon talking shit and making jokes. He wants to go to Iraq someday, to see what it's really like. He's growing his beard for No shave November, he has blonde hair but his beard turns a little red, he looks silly with it. He is very handsome, but his beard is very silly. I don't think I've learned a single thing this year. Mostly I just glare out at people, turn the volume down, and dream about stars and people that live far away. I don't want anyone to talk to me. I mostly just want to sit up in the dungeon and watch depressing indie films about people and nothing else. Some days I just don't have the strength for the subtle complexities of human interactions. Quote of the Day" ~"“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”~ --Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

What's the point? What is the point of living? It doesn't matter how we live; selfishly, happily, angrily, selflessly, horribly, it really doesn't matter. We all die in the end. I may save mankind, but I will never be able to save myself from the inevitable. I want meaning, I want purpose, I want passion...where did all my passion go? What happened to my will to fight, to breathe, to bare my pain with a smile upon my face? All I do is scowl and cry. I'm bitter and angry. People, they love my wit, it's hysterical. I'm only really witty when I'm angry though. I have a tongue that was made for lashings, but sometimes I wish it would just fall out. Somewhere between Quantum Mechanics and General Relativity we missed something, but all we talk about is strings that we can't even see and formulas that only make sense in a hypothetical world. Funds, where are all the funds going? Is that what a mathematician does for a living? I wonder what it would be like to get sucked into a black hole (passed of course, the extreme pain.) You're body being ripped to pieces starting with part nearest to the black hole while the rest just sort of chills out. Maybe a black hole leads to the other side, the afterlife. After all, you can go in but you can never come out. I'm such a mediocre and boring person. I'm really not one for entertaining and my conversations are only so enjoyable. I realized I've made friends with yet another senior who will just leave again. He says he'll come back for Thanksgiving and see me, I hope so. Sometimes I feel there's a...tension...but I feel a lot of things. The room is just spinning, and spinning, and tilting in all directions. I close my eyes at night and it's as though my bed is laying upon a dizzy top. My doctor said it was hormones, just like my appetite problem, my weird weight, and my heart palpitations. I must have a lot of hormones, they must all really hate me too. Whatever I did, I'm sorry hormones, can you please make the dizzy top stop? I keep ending these with apologies. I feel like I'm letting people down, or maybe it's just myself. I'm realizing that as the anxiety is dissipating I'm forced with who I really am. Anxiety left and now I see this girl named Kathlynn, she is blonde and boring, she is worrisome and angry, she doesn't know where to go and she feels like giving up, she likes music and art, she writes mediocre stories, and she can't really play the piano. I don't really like Kathlynn very much... I've been trying to change her my whole life though. Shape her into something great, something interesting, but she always just goes back to her original awkward, pigeon toed state. Her cautious eyes never lose their tinge of sadness, I feel sorry for everyone who has too look into them. Quote of the Day: ~"When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it happened or not."~ --Mark Twain

My therapy homework was to feel. Ever since I was little I was trained not feel, and especially not to express it. Through this it seems that I have become excellent at exploiting fake emotions and going on cues in conversations instead of what is happening in my head. There's this huge thought process to what I can and can't say. So, in a way, I'm cutting out the middle man. He was never really very nice anyway. It's hard to accept these emotions and feelings. I haven't done it in so long. Sometimes I wish that we could all say those honest words we can't afford. Then we could be open and not have to hide how we feel. I guess that would make things hurtful in ways though. Sometimes I feel like my life is made up of waiting. Waiting to speak, waiting to see, waiting for tomorrow, waiting to redeem myself. All I want to do is help those I love, but I feel so helpless and inadequate. I really do feel like that line from Guernica 'If I could I would shrink myself, sink through your skin to your blood cells, remove what ever makes you hurt, but I am too weak to be your cure.' My chemistry teacher, who knows all that has gone recently, told me he was really proud of me the other morning. I wish I could feel like I deserve such praise. I wish I could feel less angry at myself and less empty. I wish I wish I wish, isn't that right? There wasn't a reply though. Oh well. Some questions may be better left unanswered, or at least that's what I've always heard anyway. I gave blood a couple of days ago. It makes me feel good to know I'm helping someone I will never meet or know. I can get over my fears for that. There's so much more I want to say, but I just don't know how to. I'm sorry, I really am, I wish I could be better and more helpful. I never meant to be this person, or this lack of one. I feel so lost again. I just want to see the light, haven't I been patient enough? Quote of the Day: "In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." --Martin Luther King, Jr.

So much has happened since that last update. I don't know if I have the energy to even explain, or if I just want to leave it hidden in Bubba (my real journal.) I've been in therapy for about a month now I suppose. I've been feeling better lately, so maybe it's working. She's hinted I have severe depression with psychotic behaviors. It sounds a lot cooler than it really is. I got really confused for a while and decided to kill myself, but I didn't. I told Camden about it instead, knowing that if I told someone I wouldn't do it. I still wanted to, everyday, every hour, every second I thought about how to do it, and when. Night, day, morning, weekend, weekday. It makes me feel sick to think about it now. My stomach pains and I want to cry, I feel so guilty. I was so selfish. The scent of cinnamon and Camden's voice kept me alive. I could never thank him enough. I got really confused a while ago again, I wasn't sure what or whom I wanted in my life anymore. That sort of fixed itself I guess. "Ik denk dat ik verliefd op je, het spijt me." I wish it would stop haunting me. It's in my drawings, and my writing, and my thoughts. It's getting better, I'm getting better, I'm going to be better. Camden said I'm not broken, that made me feel nice. He says nice things. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling better and how life is better, and how the sun shines even though it's cold outside, and now I'm feeling scattered and low, and forgotten, and sad. I'm so afraid of dying again. Of forever, and of ending. I wish I just had an answer, even if it wasn't a right answer, just an answer, or a wish, or something to make me sleep at night. Sometimes I wonder if I should be on medicince, but Todd says I shouldn't, and I believe him. I have this dream where there's nothing but this scene that has a road stretched out in front of me, it curves slightly to the right, and at the end I can see the most beautifully fanned out tree I've lain my eyes upon. It is perfect. Even though it's breathtaking and fascinating, I know what it means, it means the end, it means death, it means I'm over. I stand there frozen, afraid to look at it, and afraid to look away. A wind pushes me forth, and though my feet aren't moving I gravitate toward the tree until it's high above me, like a looming skyscraper, it's branches entice me to climb, but I'm frozen and trembling, tears run smoothly down my face. I breathe in, but my throat is closed. I wake up afraid, usually staring at the ceiling, afraid to look around because I know I'll see something from the corner of my eye. I grab for one of two things; Blue the stuffed dog I sleep with or Dar beside me. Sometimes I grab nothing and I lay there, terrified, until tiredness takes over and pulls me back into the abyss of my subconscious. Sometimes I wish you hadn't said those things, expressed those thoughts, and shared those feelings. However, it has brought me so much relief to know, I just wish I could make decisions better, and that I thought more clearly. I hope you fall deeply in love and forget me and this fickle heart residing in this chest of mine. I got this fortune that read; 'you will make many changes before settling down.' My fortunes always come true, it's very creepy and almost never failing. I received this fortune, and side glanced to the right of me, at Dar, my heart ached and I hoped he wasn't the change, but then another part of me did because I thought of someone else. I felt guilty and like shit. I didn't talk much after that. I'm sorry to everyone I have failed and everyone I will eventually fail. I wish I wasn't such a crappy friend, and that I could have made him feel better. I wish I could not think so much and feel better about things. I wish I could stop this horrid hilly climb of emotions. It feels as though I'm walking through a dark forest, and I finally find the light, but at that very second I fall into a puddle 100 feet deep, and I'm emerged in muddy,dark, cold water where I'm confused and afraid. I just want to stay in the light where I can dry and nurse my frightened mind. This is getting long and I'm beginning to ramble. Quote of the Day: ~"“The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing” --Sigmund Freud I really wish the growing tuft of soft cotton would cease to exist inside my seemingly empty cage of ribs. It feels as though I'm the main character in a Michel Gondry film, and my insides are his playing area for creating odd materials dance as in a stop-motion animation film.

Dear friends, I'm writing this to explain what's become of me so as to not have any more loose ends then what I already do. I don't remember how long it's been since I last spoke on here, but I believe it has been a good while. Anyway, a lot has happened since that last visit to songmeanings. I no longer live at home, for good. After my mother got into a fight over me with my sister she demanded I come home. Once I got home her boyfriend made extraordinarily uncalled for remarks. After some more arguing my mother drug me to the ground with her nails and scratched my back all up. Dar's family came to get me and are now going to try to get some form of custody of me. I've talked to his mother about it and she agreed that my mother and her boyfriend are most likely on some form of speed. Right now it's slow going, they're afraid to talk to anyone because they don't want me to be placed with a family I don't know, which is likely. We've tried going to social services, but they weren't really any help. They gave us a number for another social services in a different county, and they gave us a 1-800 number. I never thought reporting something like this would be so difficult, school and the media would have you think it's as easy as 1-2-3. Anyway, I am indeed safe, and okay for the most part. I hope that you all are doing very well, I will try to check up on this, but I don't know how often I will be able to since I have to do it from school. (Dar has no internet. :( ) I'm sorry this couldn't be more personal, I wish I could make it, but I really can't. If I'm not around for a while; take care of yourselves, I dearly hope you are all well and happy. Sincerely, Kathlynn P.S. I have two messages that I can't read. If anyone from here has tried to contact me, I'm sorry you must have forgotten to fill out the title.

With a tightened throat I watch videos and listened to songs that I used to when I was depressed, and in a way it makes me feel better. However, it also makes me remember how shitty I felt then and how shitty I feel now. I don't think I'm depressed again or anything, maybe a little, not often though. That's common though, I think. It just feels like my head is so fucked up lately and there's this knot in my neck that never goes away. Maybe it's hormones, I don't know, I just want to feel good again. I want to not be plagued with guilt, anger, distrust, and strees. I'm so overwhelmed. I just want to go back to a time when I wasn't constantly on the verge of tears. Sometimes, even when I'm laughing, I can feel the tears well up and sting me eyes. I swallow hard and just think, 'Why are you about to cry? Please, please, please just get through it one more time and I swear you can let it out later, just don't let them see you cry over nothing.' I feel really fucked, and maybe it's just right now, maybe I'll feel better in a week or two. It seems to go in circles like that, maybe I'm bipolar..I don't know, I don't think so, I don't think that runs in the family. Just depression, heart problems, and anxiety here. I don't even like to sleep anymore. It's one of my favorite things to do, relax at night, think about the day or make up stories and just...let go. Now when I sleep it feels like waiting, I feel so weary and restless. I really hope I get to go to therapy and that it makes some sort of change. To be able to release everything verbally to someone who doesn't know me, and never will outside of one room, seems kind of..nice. I'm trying to not think about it to much, I don't want to ride on the thought and be let down. My mother owes me a hundred dollars and was suppose to pay me back two weeks ago. -sigh Quote of the day: ~“Reading furnishes the mind only with materials of knowledge; it is thinking that makes what we read ours.” -John Locke

July 28, 2009 Dar and I made tea today before dinner. His dad is diabetic and was recently put on dialysis (his kidney's are failing.) He can't have caffeine anymore, except one cup, which is a real challenge considering all he drank before was tea. Anyway, since he can only have one cup he told us to make it how we like, instead of 1/2 cup of sugar we used 3/4. I don't think Dar really cares for sweet tea, which is hard for me to not scowl at since my mother makes SWEET tea. I grew up drinking very sweet tea around not only her, but my grandma Shi, my father's mother. I always assumed that's where my mother learned to make tea since my great grandma Dor on my mother's side makes hers rather bitter. So, we made tea, not too sweet and plenty strong. I drank a little while it was so warm and I was immediatly thrown ten years backward, to my great grandmother's kitchen. She had a small house, with a small kitchen, and a large kitchen table. On this table sat a small, green, glass sugar dish which closed shut by one of those odd contraption you have to loop around its chalice (LOOK UP) and then press down. After getting tea I always snuck to this jar, crossing my fingers, hoping she wouldn't spot me from her chair in the living space as I took the small copper spoon and dished myself more sugar than I like to admit. I have a small copper spoon like the one in that green dish at my mother's house, if it's not been taken. I really do adore that spoon, and that dish. The next time I go to my grandmother's house I believe I will ask if I can someday have that dish, with all it's memory in tow. (LOOK UP TOW) I really do love my great grandmother very much, she's always been incredibly sweet to me and my sister. Somedays I'd care for nothing more than to go back to those sick days in her special chair, eating tomatoe soup and burned grilled cheese while watching PBS. My grandmother always burned what she made in the skillet, it's one thing that defines her in my memory's catalog. My mother has told me of a time when my grandmother was not so sweet. You see, my mother's mother died when she was five, and shortly after her and her brother's father lost custody of them my great grandmother took them. After my great grandfather died it came out that my grandmother's children were indeed not his. In short, my great grandmother was uncovered to be a huss in her day. However, after falling in line with my great grandfather's sisters she became a holy roller, which she still is today. So, my great grandmother saw her grandchildren (my mother and uncle) as mistakes, and not blessings. Sometimes, when my mother speaks of such things, I feel she wants me to be spiteful and angry at the family who has wronged her, but I simply cannot. I didn't know my grandmother then, and I don't think anyone should be held for their past longer than need be. There is most certainly no more need for it to be held against her, I love her, even for her past. Apparently my father has a job now. It will be the first in years, the first legitiment job at least. He's twenty-thousand dollars in debt to child support, and now that he's working again my mother is being paid a nice ninety-two dollars ever so often. However, I'm certain that money will go to drugs, and cigarettes, and whatever else she and her boyfriend 'need.' It's not like I'm living at home anyway, and even I was, well, it wouldn't change much. My grandma Shi sent me one hundred dollars for school clothing, since my mother hasn't actually bought me clothes in a couple of years. My mother asked to borrow fifty the first night before I cashed the money order, but when I did she took eighty. It bothers me how unfit my mother is for being a parent. Her boyfriend doen't work, he has no license, but he sure can drive 'my' car. He can also put ridiculous looking stickers on it. I stayed a few nights at my mother's a week or so ago. The first night they went out of town and said they'd pick something up, 1 am she calls and says to fix something for myself. Cool, I only waited until 1 fucking am to eat, only to have her tell me that. The next night, she goes to get bath tissue and doesn't come back for five hours. When she does come home, she has no bath tissue and no money. She had told me before we'd figure something out for dinner, and when she gets home she laughs at me for waiting up for her to have dinner, it's 12 am. Part of me, really suspects she's tweaking, but a bigger part of me wants to put my fingers in my ears and scream 'na-na-na-i-can't-hear-you-reality!' Even if she was tweaking, what can I do? I really don't want to go 'home'..

:This is a small collection of journal entries I've been writing on Wordpad. They will go from bottom to top oldest to newest as my other entries automatically do.: July 11th ; the day of the Skyline show There are these kittens in the barn. They opened their eyes a week and a half or so ago. I love the way they smell and mew, and how when I pick one up it looks all around with wide eyes never stopping to rest on one thing. As if it's attempting to take the whole world in, in one giant sweep. They really are quite beautiful little kittens. They're mainly grey; the oldest is grey striped with one tan spot on it's head, the middle is all grey and striped, the youngest is grey with no stripes and light tan spots. I go to see them on most days, or when I can. Today, I went after the storm. Standing in the barn, picking them out of their cubby holes it began to rain again and there was something that just felt so good, so simple. I love how the outside world smells after a summer's rain. The sweet smell of the grass and the fields being whisked away in the wind...there are days when I couldn't ask for more. Sometimes, Dar and I go and fight in the corn field with these two-dollar foam swords I bought us. I always wear a flowing skirt, it's so much easier to run in. There's this open spot in the corn field, where nothing grows, we fight our way through the corn to it at dusk. There's something about that spot that just feels wonderful, like it's our secret spot. The corns getting taller and it's a little harder to get through now, but I like being the leader as we walk down and through the rows. There's something I really like about living here. I like how disconnected I am, I like how we have to find our own ways of entertainment. I like feeling less like an adult and more like a child. I like being away. I miss Suss's sometimes though. I love being there, for I feel like I'm for once a part of a family. One day, as I was rinsing my coffee cup Rran (her father) kissed the top of my head, like father's do to daughters, and I just realized I've never had that sort of open love in my home. Nik (her mother) openly told me she loved without having to say goodbye or any such thing. I wish I could say the same about my own broken little family. July 8th, 9:35 pm Central Time Four days ago Dar and I have been dating a year. It feels pretty nice to know we've made it so far and we've done so well. Though I've had my share of fuck ups, I'm glad we're together. We never fight, and when I say that, I mean it. I'm not just saying it to make it sound like we're perfect. We have our disagreements, sure. We even have heated moments of slight anger, but it passes and we never hold real arguments or resentment for one another. I talked to my sister not long ago and told her about the weekly mishaps with my mother and she wished Dar's parents would just adopt me. I can now understand why my sister left when she was fifteen, I understand a bit too well, more than she did perhaps. My mother is slowly slipping out of my vision of people I respect and crawling into the vision of people I abhor. I'm just horribly sick of all the broken promises. All the things she says she'll do, but then doesn't because something 'came up.' Like this coming weekend for instance. Skyline Empire (http://www.myspace.com/skylineempireband) is a local band that Dar and I love, he has a prepaid ticket to the show this Saturday and we can't wait to go. Arnol said he'd give us a lift. The thing with Arnol is we may have a lift there...but getting home is another story. So, my mother told me she'd give me the car, to make sure we're safe and all. (like mothers do) But what? She calls today saying we need to house sit for her this weekend...the occasion? A work thing? A death? Family issues? No, ladies and gentlemen.. She needs/i> to get out of town, go to my aunt's.....and you guessed it, party. Oh well. I've been thinking and fearing death a lot again lately. It feels like this ever present shadow just hanging around my feet, and I'm terrified of looking down. I dreamt I died the other night, and the pain I felt in it was so real. The longing to be back home, with Dar, with my friends, it felt so horrible. I woke up cold and frightened and cuddled up to Dar, but even then it was still there. We watched this really good movie earlier called Fur: The Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus and in the end the man she loves is having breathing problems and he asks her to go to the ocean with him. He dies there, obviously, and again I felt that wrenching feeling. I'm so afraid of dying and even more of afraid of those I love dying. There are so many things I would miss. My brown heels, my favorite shade of blue, Dar's whistley nose in the middle of the night, the sound of my best friend's voice (though that's a new one.), music, art and making art, the hope for tomorrow, video games, sunsets, the low blue note, stranger's laughs, bitterly beautiful things, learning, reading, and writing, feeling sexy even if I'm not, being loved and loving, the scent of honey suckles, autumn, everyone's secret life, independent films, color coated memories...the list goes on and on. I often feel I will die young, but I think a lot of people do. Though feeling this way makes me think back to the Spring. Standing on Joel's porch he told me the same thing, and I hoped it wouldn't be so. I wonder if this is how he felt. I wonder how he feels now, I hope he's happy. I'm going to go play Animal Crossing now and try to lighten up a bit. Wednesday, maybe. I think I have finally realized what puts me into that funk. That funk that makes me think and makes me feel like I used to when things were so horrible. An event happened that seemed to trigger and I realized it was the same for most times I fall into it. Dar's sister came to visit, well sort of, she came to pick up an ice cream cake we made (horribly) for her. She came over and all was well but I felt myself getting more quiet as the time progressed and by the end of her visit I was in it. I suppose I am a little disappointed to find this to be the possible reason behind the funk for it further shows social phobia. I've been staying at Dar's for about a week now I would say. I'm not really sure of the date right now, but I estimate I've been here about a week. The reason I'm staying here is because my parents have decided to get a divorce (or my mother is just leaving my step father, either or) She did this while I was staying at Suss's house for a three week visit. And the funniest thing about it? She told me via text message...because she's an adult. She already has a new boyfriend who was a family friend before, we have a new 'house' which is at least larger than the last fish tank we were shoved in to (and I have windows again.) I guess it's pretty safe to say I have a teensy bit of pent up anger hidden in my cage of ribs. It's just really hard to deal with a mother who is more of a sixteen year old than you are. I'm not sure if she's going through a midlife crisis but it sure seems like it. Today Dar and I went to the new house (which we had to find our own ride home from...what the fuck) and while she was hugging me goodbye she let word of her new sex life. Gee, thanks Mom. I realize that the disappointment I'm feeling now may be my own fault. It turns out that I very well may not be going to Arkansas this year. I was banking on that, I wanted it, I wanted to be away and do what I feel and say what I feel and take in all I want, to not have to answer to a woman who acts like a child. I let myself become excited, I let myself depend on the escape, and now I have let myself down. Nice and easy, like always. I may be staying with Dar until school starts...which is about a month away I believe. So I have no internet until then unless I stay with my mother. I hope I get to some internet soon, to tell Camden I have none and that my phone is shut off (again, thanks to my asshole ex-stepfather) I thought a week or so without talking to him would suck, now it may be a month or so. I hope not. Guh, things suck right now and I feel that it's taking forever to get it all out so I'm going to attempt to shorten it. I went to Suss's which was not as nice as I expected, let downs lead to more let downs in my neck of the woods it seems. Joel doesn't seem to be there anymore, and maybe he's not, I don't want to talk about that here. I felt a tinge awkward around Suss and Trev all the time, not that it was their fault or anything, just...riding in the backseat alone is only so fun for so long. And even when Joel was back there with me, he just fell asleep or was set on staring at the fields passing by. The weather was less than desirable and I began to feel very odd. A few nights before I left I had the biggest breakdown I've had in a terribly long time. As soon as the latch on the bathroom door made contact tears started dripping, I sat in there with my hands cuffed over muffling my sobs for what seemed like hours. Nothing makes you feel more worthless than being blown off last minute. While all my own internal fighting was going on, my mother was apparently doing some fighting of her own. Hence, the divorce. After the text, things became...strange. My now ex-stepfather began warming up to me though I've always hated that racist fuck and he knows it. I warmed back though, to protect my cats, not knowing what he'd do otherwise. He was obviously using me to get to my mother. My mother then decided to get with Clay I guess, which she also told me through text. After this, Clay apparently went off on Ju (ex-stepfather) and I got a phone call with all the details during dinner at a Thai restaurant (my choice.) I became overwhelmed, and cried in the place, hooray for public crying.. So then my mother apparently takes Ju to court or something to file for divorce and he says something along the lines of 'people sleep well in burned houses.' And now we live down the street. =] Yippee Yay. Blah... Oh, and my laptop was filled with gay and teen porn, and my mother let her dumbass friend who can't even work utorrent mess with it. So it's a little slow, and since Mother is no longer friends with Dumbass I have no way of knowing what she did. =]