I'm sorry.

words are not nor ever shall be enough.

the more i try to protect you from being hurt, the more i end up hurting you.

you're my best friend. you know me better than anyone. you make me so happy... but perhaps you would be better off without me?

it seems that despite my best intentions, all i do is make you miserable.

maybe i've gone about this all wrong, but you should know i had nothing but your feelings in mind the whole time and you matter so much to me and always will, despite whatever may happen now.

love you.

liz

[mood| anxious]

[music| When Did Your Heart Go Missing? -- Rooney]

DEATHLY HALLOWS OMG!

[mood| crampy]

[music| orinoco flow-- enya]

So, I'm back from Alaska, and I rather forgot to tell all of you I was going... Er... excuse my error. 

But I can't talk about Alaska, or Seattle, or the cruise and how much weight I gained, or period cramps, or having to pee in the cup at the doctor's and instead of peeing all over my hand as usual and feeling icky, I was unable to pee and felt like a true failure at life. No, I cannot discuss any of this. I can't even talk about Scarlett and Rhett, or Melanie and Ashley, or how I finished Gone with the Wind. 

No, no. 

I have to tell you about my mother. She doesn't quite like me you see. My best friend says it's because she's a Rat and I'm a Horse that we don't get along. Chinese Zodiac, yo. But we're just really different people. She misconstrues my meaning quite often. Thinks I'm an arrogant little brat actually, whenm I'm really quite modest. -halo-  0:-)  No, I'm not. But she doesn't get it, you know? 

So I was looking for a picture album so I could make Shani, the Chinese astrology best friend, a scrapbook, and I found my parents' wedding album. Talk about big hair. But they loked really different, obviously. Less linage, more hair, poufy dresses and winged hair, too. 

But most different: my mom was happy. She was laughing. Now obviously, it was her wedding. She probably wasn't like that all the time. But she looked a bit like me. So I thought, maybe my mum was like me once, and in thirty years, I'll be like her. I hope not. She's so unhappy now. So then... I just really wanted to make her happy again, you know? 

And right after I found the book, the funny thing is, we had this huge other fight. Whole arrogance bit about something I had said about college. Whatever. She just got it wrong, I guess. 

Maybe Alaska pics next time, mmm? 

[edit]: I'm leaving the week after next for Wisconsin, so I'll catch up journal-wise all next week, then I'm off again. Just as an fyi. :]

 

 

[mood| content] [music| hallelujah-- imogen heap ]

why, hello there friends. i haven't quite found the banner i want yet, and it is getting to be a bit late to be searching for one, so i suppose i'll find one tomorrow. until then, voila! my journal.

i've had ljs before, of course. they all turned out to be sad reminders of the gray emo days of my thirteenth year and my lack of knowledge of spelling, grammar, and punctuation. ah, but i've learned.

basics:

hi. i'm liz. i am sixteen years old, drizzly november in my soul, making me a scorpio.

i like to write, and i see life through what i read. i would like to imagine myself as a person with a many-faceted character, so i go by different names, depending upon my mood.

if i sign my entries with names like lo, lola, liz, elizabeth, dolores, ellie, lita, or lolita, know the name depends on my feelings at that moment.

i don't enjoy capitalisation or spelling words with z. i am, however, a bit of a grammar whore. i type quickly and often incorrectly. i'm working on that.

music is lovely. so are hugs, nabokov, rain, oscar sven, valetchka, and pickles. i have a healthy obsession with pickles.

LOST, the beatles, old school disney movies, bob dylan, and chicago, the place and the play, pretty much dominate my life. that and les misérables. and gone with the wind.


fiddle dee dee.


love from
liz