Without you, the ground thaws
the rain falls, the grass grows.
Without you, the seeds root,
the flowers bloom, the children play.
The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly
without you. The earth turns, the sun burns
but I die, without you.
Without you, the stars roar
the breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves.
Without you, the tides change
the boys run, the oceans crash.
The crowds roar,the days soar, the babies cry,
without you, the moon glows, the river flows,
but I die, without you.
The world revives, colors renew
but I know blue, only blue, lonely blue, within me blue.
Without you.
Without you, the hand gropes
the ear hears, the pulse beats.
Without you, the eyes gaze
the legs walk, the lungs breathe.
The mind churns.
The heart yearns.
The tears dry, without you.
Life goes on, but I’m gone.
Cause I die, without you.
Without you the ground thaws
The rain falls, the grass grows
Without you, the seeds root,
the flowers bloom, the children play,
The Stars Gleam, the eagles fly
Without you the earth turns, the sun burns,
But I die without you
Without you the breeze warms, the girls smile, the cloud moves
Without you, the tides change,
the oceans crash, the crowd roars, the days soar, the babies cry
Without you the moon glows the river flows
But I die without you
The world revives, colors renew
but I know blue, only blue, lonely blue, within me blue
But I'm gone, without you.
------------------------------------------------
Every day I walk down the street
I hear people say "baby, so sweet"
Ever since I hit puberty
Everyone keeps staring at me.
Boys, girls, I can't help it baby.
So be kind, and don't lose your mind.
Just remember I'm your baby.
Take me for what I am
Who I was meant to be
And if you give a damn
Take me baby or leave me
A tiger in a cage can never see the sun
but this diva needs her stage, c'mon baby, let's have fun
You're the one I choose
Folks would kill to fill your shoes
You love the limelight too, baby
So be mine, and don't waste your time
Crying "hunny-bear, am I still your baby?"
Take me for what I am
Who I was meant to be
And if you give a damn
Take me baby, or leave me
No way can I be what I'm not
but hey, don't you like your girl hot?
Don't fight, don't lose your head
Because everynight, who's in your bed?
Who's in your bed, baby?
It won't work.
I look before I leap.
I love margins and discipline.
I make lists in my sleep.
Baby, what's my sin?
Never quit-I follow through
I hate mess, but I love you
What to do with my impromtu baby?
So be wise, this girl satisfies
You've got a prize, but don't comprimise
You're one lucky baby.
Take me for what I am.
(A control freak.)
Who I was mean to be.
(A snob, yet over attentive)
And if you give a damn,
(A loveable, droll, geek)
Take me baby, or leave me.
(And anal retentive!)
That's it, the straw that breaks my back.
I quit unless you take it back.
Women, what is it about them?
You can't live with them or without them.
Take me for what I am
Who I was meant to be
And if you give a damn
Take me baby, or leave me.
Guess I'm leaving.
I'm gone.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Shake it shake it shake it girl, make sure you don't break it girl
Brett, you didn't call to tell me if you were working. But Kim told me, and we cried together. I think one day, you should NOT work and then call me and we'll watch a movie and have another party in which me, Danie, and Kim spend the night and we do not sleep at all and we run to the gas station at 6 am because we're hungry and you don't have any food atall.
I really think we should. Or take a road trip to Chicago. Either one.
I almost got kicked out of drama this week. Almost, meaning, I was. But after a lengthy talk with Mr. Cloutier, we came to an agreement and I was allowed to come back to class. I have to write. From now until January. It's like those journal entries we had to do, except it's just one big long one. And I have to tell him
a) who I am
b) who I want to be
c) where I'm going in life
d) why I want to do film
e) how I'm going to do it
f) etc, etc, etc
I was thinking "hey, that's not hard." But it is. It's really hard. Everytime I sit down to write about who I am, I draw complete blanks. I have a name, a face, but I'm so used to faking, I don't know how to be real. He noticed that too. I thought that was weird.
I guess who I am is a liar.
And who I want to be? Perfect. I want to be perfect in all aspects, and I want people to know who I am. I want random people I've never met to read about me in the tabloids because their lives are such shit, they need to hear about someone else's.
Yesterday, I watched The Fly with Danie, Adam, And Brent. I love that movie. It's so awesomly cheesy and not-scary. It's probably my favourite.
Then Brent had this stupid lighter that he couldn't actually light. A zippo? It smelled sooo bad, and it was really obnoxious the way he kept trying to be cool by doing tricks. I stole it, and was the annoying girl who steals things. Because that's how irritating it was to hear "fuck" every five seconds when he couldn't light it.
And Adam...oh that Adam. I've never hung out with him before. But it was fun, even though I was terrified of him the whole time.
End post.
I really think we should. Or take a road trip to Chicago. Either one.
I almost got kicked out of drama this week. Almost, meaning, I was. But after a lengthy talk with Mr. Cloutier, we came to an agreement and I was allowed to come back to class. I have to write. From now until January. It's like those journal entries we had to do, except it's just one big long one. And I have to tell him
a) who I am
b) who I want to be
c) where I'm going in life
d) why I want to do film
e) how I'm going to do it
f) etc, etc, etc
I was thinking "hey, that's not hard." But it is. It's really hard. Everytime I sit down to write about who I am, I draw complete blanks. I have a name, a face, but I'm so used to faking, I don't know how to be real. He noticed that too. I thought that was weird.
I guess who I am is a liar.
And who I want to be? Perfect. I want to be perfect in all aspects, and I want people to know who I am. I want random people I've never met to read about me in the tabloids because their lives are such shit, they need to hear about someone else's.
Yesterday, I watched The Fly with Danie, Adam, And Brent. I love that movie. It's so awesomly cheesy and not-scary. It's probably my favourite.
Then Brent had this stupid lighter that he couldn't actually light. A zippo? It smelled sooo bad, and it was really obnoxious the way he kept trying to be cool by doing tricks. I stole it, and was the annoying girl who steals things. Because that's how irritating it was to hear "fuck" every five seconds when he couldn't light it.
And Adam...oh that Adam. I've never hung out with him before. But it was fun, even though I was terrified of him the whole time.
End post.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Relationships are for the birds.
*chirp chirp*
I don't know why people can't see things the way I do. I'm looking at all these couples. And I'm thinking "you two shouldn't be dating." And sure enough, two weeks later, it's kaput. What made them think it would last?
So, when people ask me for advice on "should I date so-n-so?"....I give them advice. Do they listen? Nope. They are optimistic, a good quality I guess, but get hurt. So easily. It's not fair.
Stupid teenagers and their messed up relationships. I hate them.
I don't know why people can't see things the way I do. I'm looking at all these couples. And I'm thinking "you two shouldn't be dating." And sure enough, two weeks later, it's kaput. What made them think it would last?
So, when people ask me for advice on "should I date so-n-so?"....I give them advice. Do they listen? Nope. They are optimistic, a good quality I guess, but get hurt. So easily. It's not fair.
Stupid teenagers and their messed up relationships. I hate them.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Addy Addy Addy Addy Addy Addy
is totally sitting next to me right now.
I have discovered I miss blogging. Since Kim left, I’ve been holding off on the blogs until I get either mad or sad enough to write. But I want to right about everything. Ever.
Yesterday I went to Steph’s house to “help her study for chemisty”. I was really rude though….I accidently invited Brent over….and Danie came later. So no studying got done, and the Wizard Of Oz sequel turned up. It was a fun evening, although I still am quite bitter that I lost my argument over Musicals vs. Film. I should have won. I deserve to win. DAMN RIGHT. The only reason I lost was because I resorted to violence. But Danie resorted to singing, and I think that’s just as wrong.
I’m sorry Steph’s family for staying too late.
I LOVE YOU STEPH. Don’t cry. I get yelled at all the time. You’re gonna marry Quincy. You are going to do good on your exam.
Steph is stupid because she won’t come see Rent. (Steph says: if I could come you KNOW I would but I cant and your stupid for going a night I cant come. )
Brett! You are invited! And Kim is invited. And me and Danie are coming of course.
Brent is coming because his name rhymes with Rent, and he’s allowed to bring Adam if he wants to.
And! We’re going to watch The Fly. Damn right, we are.
I like swearing lately.
Jeff Goldblum = attractive. And apparently, Jesus.
Ummm…I have to work today. I thought you might like to know. I like working lately. Maybe it’s because I don’t have to call in sick as often. I feel sick. But I’m not gonna call in.
: (
Whatchya gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk…
I’m gonna get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump…
I have discovered I miss blogging. Since Kim left, I’ve been holding off on the blogs until I get either mad or sad enough to write. But I want to right about everything. Ever.
Yesterday I went to Steph’s house to “help her study for chemisty”. I was really rude though….I accidently invited Brent over….and Danie came later. So no studying got done, and the Wizard Of Oz sequel turned up. It was a fun evening, although I still am quite bitter that I lost my argument over Musicals vs. Film. I should have won. I deserve to win. DAMN RIGHT. The only reason I lost was because I resorted to violence. But Danie resorted to singing, and I think that’s just as wrong.
I’m sorry Steph’s family for staying too late.
I LOVE YOU STEPH. Don’t cry. I get yelled at all the time. You’re gonna marry Quincy. You are going to do good on your exam.
Steph is stupid because she won’t come see Rent. (Steph says: if I could come you KNOW I would but I cant and your stupid for going a night I cant come. )
Brett! You are invited! And Kim is invited. And me and Danie are coming of course.
Brent is coming because his name rhymes with Rent, and he’s allowed to bring Adam if he wants to.
And! We’re going to watch The Fly. Damn right, we are.
I like swearing lately.
Jeff Goldblum = attractive. And apparently, Jesus.
Ummm…I have to work today. I thought you might like to know. I like working lately. Maybe it’s because I don’t have to call in sick as often. I feel sick. But I’m not gonna call in.
: (
Whatchya gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk…
I’m gonna get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump…
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Create new post?
I think I just might.
In reference to my previous statement, addressing those who are insensitive and somewhat brain dead, I think I'm going to eleborate.
I'm hurt. I'm hurting, currently. Present tense. What happened? I'll tell you. Without names or specific situation, I'll give you words.
"sara, everytime I see you you've got something in your mouth."
Yes, I do. Because I'm experimenting with normality. If other kids are eating, I thought I might be able to as well. Thanks, though. It's always been my number one fear for people to notice when I'm eating? I've always thought that everytime something passed my lips, someone was thinking exactly what you just voiced.
I'll be sure to refrain from such an activity in the future.
You can be a team with "sara, you need something you can hide in" and "you look like you're pregnant"
"Hey! That medication you're taking...you're supposed to eat with it, right? I can tell you have been. Because you're not the way you said you might be. Try it sometime. Try just not eating for once, I want to see what you act like."
Hey! Fuck you....I've been trying that for the last six years. Until I found out my body is having some sort of identitity crisis. I found out that I might actually die from the aforementioned crisis, and yet, I still continue to be the most stupid human being on the planet other than you. This is why I don't tell people what the imbalance is. I'm scared they'll look it up and worry.
In death, size would not matter. Nor would feeling. I guess, consciously, that's why I try to cheat it. Because I want neither to matter in life.
Thanks. I didn't eat for the rest of the day because you aroused my curiosity. And I missed out on my great friend's birthday party because the floor felt like it kept coming up to meet me and I wanted to rip my skin off because of the way my stomach was trying to jump out my throat. I felt uneasy and nervous, more than usual, and I couldn't quite figure out whether my body was still attatched to my mind.
You don't want to see me like that, because you wouldn't notice any difference. I've become fairly adept at hiding pain and sickness.
Headaches are different.
So that's what happened to make me feel this way now. This weird and eerie calm that I know is hurt. I'm hurting because you got to the core of it without even trying. It's not fair, because not even I could say it so perfectly, knowing what I know about my feelings. I'm hurting because I just want to stop caring. Please. I want to eat without consequence. I want to feel what it's like to not be wanting.
Brent, don't feel that you have to have answers to everyone's questions. Sometimes we all need someone to just listen. Reassurance comes with knowing someone at least cares a little bit about what happens to you. This is obvious, yes, but here's to hoping you don't put too much responsibility on your words.
I know I've told you too much, and listened too little, and I'm probably a complete hypocrite. I'm sorry. You left before I could continue.
Why the hell do I repeat information a thousand times, you ask?
I'm never quite sure you believe me. Maybe you still don't.
p.s: I'm a huggy person too, I just don't normally initiate them. I'm too shy.
Kim, I hope your neice is ok....don't be sorry we couldn't hang out tonight. I spent the eving with my model car. Hot date that was. You should come over and help me build it. Won't that be fun? But no, we are going tobagganing with Chad and Trevor and Marcus.
Update your blog. Geez.
Oh, and Family Guy is rented out again.
Josh, come home for Christmas. It'll be fun.
That's all the people I feel a need to address.
No...wait....I lied. Everyone go to multimedia.srss.ca and watch "A Tale Of Two Hallways" and "Eos"
(in the archives)
In reference to my previous statement, addressing those who are insensitive and somewhat brain dead, I think I'm going to eleborate.
I'm hurt. I'm hurting, currently. Present tense. What happened? I'll tell you. Without names or specific situation, I'll give you words.
"sara, everytime I see you you've got something in your mouth."
Yes, I do. Because I'm experimenting with normality. If other kids are eating, I thought I might be able to as well. Thanks, though. It's always been my number one fear for people to notice when I'm eating? I've always thought that everytime something passed my lips, someone was thinking exactly what you just voiced.
I'll be sure to refrain from such an activity in the future.
You can be a team with "sara, you need something you can hide in" and "you look like you're pregnant"
"Hey! That medication you're taking...you're supposed to eat with it, right? I can tell you have been. Because you're not the way you said you might be. Try it sometime. Try just not eating for once, I want to see what you act like."
Hey! Fuck you....I've been trying that for the last six years. Until I found out my body is having some sort of identitity crisis. I found out that I might actually die from the aforementioned crisis, and yet, I still continue to be the most stupid human being on the planet other than you. This is why I don't tell people what the imbalance is. I'm scared they'll look it up and worry.
In death, size would not matter. Nor would feeling. I guess, consciously, that's why I try to cheat it. Because I want neither to matter in life.
Thanks. I didn't eat for the rest of the day because you aroused my curiosity. And I missed out on my great friend's birthday party because the floor felt like it kept coming up to meet me and I wanted to rip my skin off because of the way my stomach was trying to jump out my throat. I felt uneasy and nervous, more than usual, and I couldn't quite figure out whether my body was still attatched to my mind.
You don't want to see me like that, because you wouldn't notice any difference. I've become fairly adept at hiding pain and sickness.
Headaches are different.
So that's what happened to make me feel this way now. This weird and eerie calm that I know is hurt. I'm hurting because you got to the core of it without even trying. It's not fair, because not even I could say it so perfectly, knowing what I know about my feelings. I'm hurting because I just want to stop caring. Please. I want to eat without consequence. I want to feel what it's like to not be wanting.
Brent, don't feel that you have to have answers to everyone's questions. Sometimes we all need someone to just listen. Reassurance comes with knowing someone at least cares a little bit about what happens to you. This is obvious, yes, but here's to hoping you don't put too much responsibility on your words.
I know I've told you too much, and listened too little, and I'm probably a complete hypocrite. I'm sorry. You left before I could continue.
Why the hell do I repeat information a thousand times, you ask?
I'm never quite sure you believe me. Maybe you still don't.
p.s: I'm a huggy person too, I just don't normally initiate them. I'm too shy.
Kim, I hope your neice is ok....don't be sorry we couldn't hang out tonight. I spent the eving with my model car. Hot date that was. You should come over and help me build it. Won't that be fun? But no, we are going tobagganing with Chad and Trevor and Marcus.
Update your blog. Geez.
Oh, and Family Guy is rented out again.
Josh, come home for Christmas. It'll be fun.
That's all the people I feel a need to address.
No...wait....I lied. Everyone go to multimedia.srss.ca and watch "A Tale Of Two Hallways" and "Eos"
(in the archives)
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