Realizations of Drama

So, I've come to realize that this is mainly a place to store my drama, and come visit it when I feel like wasting a few minutes. Why keept it updated then? Why bother? Cause if there's nothing here, I won't have had drama. But I can't help but write. Maybe I think that somewhere, out there, somebody will come and take my side with everything. Maybe I think you'll agree with me, when I say she's a liar! And she doesn't deserve me. She's bringing me down. I'm tired of this. They deserve eachother. I love you always, cause I'm not a hating person. But I don't want to ever even see your face again. Goodbye, Forever.

Complications.

So, I know there's something on here about me forgiving you. I could go and find it, but I'm tired.^^
Anyway, um, this is just to say it's so not happening. After everything that happened, for you to go pull more crap like that, I think not. Like, definantly not. How could you do that to her? You realize she's got it in her head that ME forgiving YOU will make this all better? What is the matter with you?! Why are you going to do that to her?! You loved her. This is the worst possible way to show it.
Really, if she contemplated hurting herself...gosh. If she actually does, you will never hear the end of it from me. I'm so tired of having to deal with this. Why is it that I'm carrying the world here? Can I jsut live my life without you interfering? She honestly believes that you are the only one she's ever going to marry. She is torn apart here. I've decided I'm going to be a lover, not a fighter. Hmmm....but first, you have to make it so I don't want to rip your throat out. Please c'mon. Stop it. You are TORTURING her. I can see it before my eyes. And I feel totally helpless. You were my best friend for so long. You know how bad that will make me feel, the fact that I can't help her. Please. If either of us meant anything to you EVER, please fix all of this. I almost want to miss you...
~Jazzi

Definations...

~If every girl could see her beauty, we would be an army~
~When every girl can see her beauty, we will be an army~

Nobody specific defines me. I define myself. Sometimes, I allow my friends to help define me. Why is it that so many girls think they should have to pile on the makeup, and wear the short tight clothes, in order to be looked at? Why is it so important? What have we come to as a society? I think that every girl is beautiful. I don't care if she is thought of as ugly. She's still beautiful on the inside, and on the outside too. We as people need to get past the idea that women can only look good if they are stick thin, and have a large chest. I realize some people aren't so good at ignoring jabs given to them.
Let me tell you. I'm not a stick. I have a body shape. I have a body. I'm not a twig. As a result of this, some stick chick asked me if I was preggers.(She also wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, if you get me. One fry short of a happy meal...)I ignored it. Let it roll off of me. I was still kind aupset about it all though. A friend asked me what was wrong. I told him, and he told me I was gorgeous, and that in no way did I look pregnant. Just for a little story there.
Can we learn to accept people the way we were made? Can we learn to love eachother despite looks, or mental helath, or beliefs, ideas? I think that the world just needs a little fun and love injected into it....^^
Well then....End of that? I think...Hmmm...Well, today is a celebration! Haha, my baby brother's birthday...such an angel. Oh, and no school for like, a week due to snow.....Win^^
~Jazzi

Guilt trips and Plotless Movies...

So, I've brought my own guilt trip upon myself...It kinda sucks really. I mean, we didn't actually physically hurt you for what you did. But we yelled, and I did most of all. And we ignored you, and excluded you. I feel guilty. I feel horrid. I guilt tripped MYSELF on what I was absouletly fine with mere minutes ago. I figured nobody missed you. I figured it was just like you had moved away, and facebook didn't work. Hmmm....well then. That's two for two. The second time I've thought about in two days...

~*~*~

Well, I've come to realize, that perhaps my life could be a movie. When multiple people tell you something, it has to be true, right? {Except the pool on the imiginary third floor...A fun, yet mean trick to play on the Freashies} Anyway, So, I figure, that my life, if made into a movie, would be rather plotless. Sort of like Twilight. Plotless, and people look at it for...Well, I'm not sure what...Why do you go see plotless movies? Side note, let's start this movie making process, shall we? Fisrtly, we need a plot. {For a plotless movie? Yes, I know} Hmmm...let's start that with stroy time! Now, what should I write about? What do you want to hear, oh, imiginary internet person whom I write to instead of eating fattening ice cream on this cold winter day when I'm snowed in cause we have a few feet or so of snow and people don't know how to drive?^^
~Jazzi

In which I think unwanted thoughts.

I miss the way we used to talk like best friends. I would fully forgive you, if you apologized, maybe. I just don't think it'd feel right, you know? I mean, what you did, that was harsh. What you did again, and again, and what you said. That was just cruel. Forgive and forget. That's what Jesus would do. We try to be like him, but you don't care, so I guess it doesn't matter. I really hate that I keep thinking about you. Cause, you know, I don't WANT to! I mean, I'm just thinking all like, "oh, lookit, snow...." and BAM! You. NO! I don't want to remember. Not like we'd talk all that much anyway. I mean, me and you still? Please. Even SHE was pissed. That's saying something. I mean, really. HONESTLY. And then! To throw all of your life away like BAM! Doing this! BAM! Doing that! Why?! I guess I could point a finger, and blame you, but I made choices too, bad ones. And they effected aall of us. I guess I'm sorry. Is it too wrong to feel at blame for what you can't exactly see a connection to? I mean, and I just having such a high opinion of myself that I think I may have had something to do with this? Or, what if not? Would my taking your side, or talking to you, forgiving you earlier, made a difference? I can't even think in a straight line. I try to make this seem one direction and it curves out of place. Gosh. Do I miss you? Do you miss me? I'll never know, neither will you. You didn't show up, by the way. Not that I actually expected it, but still. I guess. It would have been nice....

~Just a side note~
Why am I most comfortable in everybody else's business? I think cause I don't want to be in my own. But then why do I have to tell you all about it? I don't. It makes me feel better though. In a weird sort of way. Letters to no one, if you will. Letters to remain unopened, to never have their meanings revealed. To never be read. If you do, by any chance, happen to come across this, just know. I love you. Jesus loves you. And I'm assuming, you're here for a reason. Kinda like going to Wal-Mart.^^

-sigh-

Hm. Talking to Jesus. I'll try that one too. Too bad the idea came from the problem child. Good luck naming those kids, by the way....

A Pro-Life poem

Month One

Mommy.
I am only 8 inches long,
but I have all my organs.
I love the sound of your voice.
Every time I hear it,
I wave my arms and legs.
The sound of your heart beat
is my favorite lullaby.

Month Two

Mommy.
Today I learned how to suck my thumb.
If you could see me,
you could definitely tell that I am a baby.
I'm not big enough to survive outside my home, though.
It is so nice and warm in here.

Month Three

You know what, Mommy?
I'm a boy!
I hope that makes you happy.
I always want you to be happy.
I don't like it when you cry.
You sound so sad.
It makes me sad too.
and I cry with you, even though
you can't hear me.

Month Four

Mommy,
my hair is starting to grow.
It is very short and fine,
but I will have a lot of it.
I spend a lot of my time exercising.
I can turn my head and curl my fingers and toes,
and stretch my arms and legs.
I am becoming quite good at it too.

Month Five

You went to the doctor today.
Mommy, he lied to you.
He said that I'm not a baby.
I am a baby, Mommy, your baby.
I think and feel.
Mommy, what's abortion?

Month Six

I can hear that doctor again.
I don't like him.
He seems cold and heartless.
Something is intruding my home.
The doctor called it a needle.
Mommy, what is it? It burns!
Please make him stop!
I can't get away from it!
Mommy! HELP me!

Month Seven

Mommy,
I am okay.
I am in Jesus's arms.
He is holding me.
He told me about abortion.
Why didn't you want me Mommy?

Every Abortion Is Just . . .

One more heart that was stopped.
Two more eyes that will never see.
Two more hands that will never touch.
Two more legs that will never run.
One more mouth that will never speak.

Tra la la la la la la la la la la...

~I wander, I wonder, about things of the past. I reminisce.
I thought I'd be over them, I'm done. Or so I said.
I see you, you see me. I wonder what you saw.
You're looking, were you seeing? Was I?
This is all so strange, and so new to me.
I don't want to hear about them and you.
I want though, for you to realize, I'm human.
We all make mistakes, forgiveness is key.
I want to forgive you, you to forgive me.
I said some things I shouldn't have, but you did first.
I know this isn't the blaming game, but you know it still hurts.
I know one day I'll see it all, in a different point of view.
One with perspective, one that shows the light.
I know that, then, I'll understand what I can't comprehend now.
Trust is important, believing is too, I did both of these, but now I need glue.
Who will get the gun? The stapler, the tape? Just something to hold it together.
But my friends looked at me, and said, "I'm your tape. I'll hold you together, cause that's what friend do." And I looked at her, she looked at me, and we both started to laugh. And I realized that I don't define myself. The ones that I love define me.
I don't need you, to tell me who to be, cause I'm loved by the ones who matter.~
*,.,*