I feel like my dreams and possibilities are slipping away.
That I've made too many bad choices and its too late to do anything.

That if I hadn't insisted on taking APs, my grades wouldn't be suffering. That I'd actually have some awesome grades.
But now I don't, and almost all of them are suffering. And that's going to ruin my college future.

I really feel like its all slipping away.

to feel your arms around me,
thats what my dream would be.

something has to change.
you just don't understand;
something has to change.

Sometimes I see him staring at me. I won't look at him. From the corner of my eye, I want him to do something.

I'm tired of these hidden signals. I'm tired of trying to make something of it.
I'm tired of playing these games. I don't think they're going anywhere and its killing me.

He's leaving too.  We're running out of time and he won't do something.

I wish I was the person who would make the move, I really wish I was. But I'm just not.

He stares at me, and I so want him to do something. I don't look so he'll stare longer. I want him to realize this could be something and change the circle we've been going in. Sometimes he's so.. there. But sometimes he's so.. not. We have this moment and the next thing he's stepping away. I want him to know he doesn't need to. I want him to know this won't be nothing for me. I want him to know that it wouldn't turn into a dramatic situation he's trying to avoid. His words echo in my mind.

And god, he makes me laugh. He makes me laugh all the time. He just knows how to brighten me up, every time. When bad things happen, all I want is to have him there. All I want is for him to make me laugh. And when good things happen, all I want is to share them with him. All I want is to talk to him about it. When I laugh and hes not there, all I want is it to be him making me laugh. When I fall back, on the bed, on the grass, on the beach, and lay there, all I want is for him to be there next to me, looking at me.

Last night. Last night I was out with my friends. At one point we were on the beach, at night, by the pier, on the swings. God, it was beautiful. The pitch black sky, the bright, white moon. The bright stars. The ocean, so close, invisible, but you could hear it. Just swinging, as hard as I could. To the beat, to the beat of my music screaming in my ears. The band that he got me hooked on. It flooded thoughts of him into my mind. The music was screaming at me as I flew through the sky and all I could imagine was him walking by. Imagining him walking by, stopping to talk. He'd grab my swing and we'd just be there, talking. He'd make me laugh and make the moment that much better. All I wanted, all night long, was to talk to him. To be spending the night with him.
He'd been cold the last time I saw him and I just wanted to be back into our little bubble. In our little bubble, where we'd talk all night. And he'd wish me goodnight. And then we'd make something of it.

But that didn't happen, and I just stopped swinging and let the music flow. I stared into space and thought silently. I pushed the swing in circles and let it go. I did that so many times I got sick. I laid my head on the bars and just stared in the direction of the ocean, in the direction of the crosswalk, in the direction of the moon and of the stars. I stared and nothing happened. I stared and realized nothing was going to happen. I wished, so hard, to be something outside of school. I wished so hard to find him there. But I turned around and walked away. I turned around and walked away and spent the rest of the night acting as wild as I could. No, nothing was wrong. No, you didn't know.

[edited - omitted]

I think I'm over it. But really, deep down, I fear I'm not. I went to school and laughed, and enjoyed my friends. The drama far away. I thought about it, and it didn't ruin my day, but I don't think that counts as coping. I talked about it, not much, just told friends who knew her that she was leaving. I don't know. Like before, it kind of worries me.

I was glad to have that time though, with my friends, to laugh. Really laugh too. I hadn't seen some of them in weeks, and it was fun.

Other things have changed, and I don't know how to deal with it. Like good or bad. I don't know how to interpret a situation and I'm kicking myself for it, because if it was what I thought it was, I missed a great opportunity. But I won't bring it up, because if it wasn't it'd be awkward. Something I've been waiting for for a long time, and I'm worried I missed the opportunity. And we're running out of time.

Other things even more so. Gas leak? Evacuation? In the gas zone and fighting with the security guard? Only class to go the other direction? Only one security guard knowing where we are? The whole school evacuated to the football field and we go to the baseball field after the teacher fighting with the security guard because we "have to take this test!" We're all going to potentially blow up and we have to take this test! The reading is extraordinarily hard to read, harder than Hamlet and Romeo & Juliet, and the questions are confusing. We're sitting in freezing weather worried for our lives. Alone, not knowing what is going on with everyone else. We heard the firetrucks, we see the crows ("A shakespearean omen?!") and we don't know if the school is being evacuated home and we're the only ones left. My teacher as the notion to think someone is trying to kill everybody and assures us that at least we're not all gathered on the football field for the snipers to kill everyone. And okay, listen up everyone, that if we starting hearing gun shots, to runnn for the corner! (Oh, but what about the fence?) Run to her house and she'll take care of us!

We take the test, writing on our legs, fingers in frostbite, sitting on an inch of rod. The students start coming back and the one security guard that knew where we were came and said the all clear. We go back to class and immediately take a quiz. The whole hour and 40 minutes of first period were testing that we didn't have previous knowledge of. Insane. Indescribable.

OMG, so fun.
And Chem teachers that threaten: "Text message one more time and I'm going to eat your lunch!"
Oh, the joys of public school life.

It hurts. It really hurts.

I can barely breathe. I have, what, 3 hours to do 3 weeks or homework? And I can't do it. I just can't. I don't have the will. No where close.
I want to curl into a ball and stay there. I want to watch TV and pretend everythings okay. I want to curl up with my puppy on my chest and fall asleep. I want to wake up and be happy. I don't want to go back to school and suffer the anxiety I had 3 weeks ago. I don't want the pressure, I don't want to fucking deal with it all. I need to deal with this. I have no fucking time to deal with this. And now I have to go deal with school? Where 3 weeks ago I was at the edge? Where I was on the verge?
I don't want to be. I want to be fine. I want to be happy. I want it all so bad.

Make it fucking go away. Please, I beg you.

I can barely speak. The words flood my head, but I don't seem to have the energy to put them down.

How I can do it now, I don't know. But I have to get this out.

I need to get this out.

... And then I don't even know what to say. Nothing seems right. Nothing seems to match what I'm feeling at this moment. I can't put it into words. How would I? How could I?

I feel like I'm choking. I feel like I'm drowning. I feel like its never-ending.

But I can feel my body fighting back. I can feel my mind pushing it away. I can feel the other emotions trying to crowd my thought so I can't comprehend what I just heard. I can feel the defenses fighting for my sanity. Fighting for my repression of the thought. I can feel my brain, with its great unimaginable powers, making it so this can't be processed. Making it so I can't remember. Making it so that I don't loose control. Making it so that I don't break down. Its just trying to ensure my safety. Its just trying to make me feel better. What wonders. What wonders my own body and give me. Make me feel better?

Thanks for trying. I'm fighting back. I'm not repressing this like everything else. I'm not going to pretend its fine like I always do. I know its all going to blow up in my face one day. I don't want it to. I really don't. I'm scared of the day it will. But then I tell myself that it won't. That I have processed all the things that have gone wrong in my life. Its just wishful thinking. I bet you.

I don't want it to blow up. I want to process it. But I don't know what to say.

I don't know what to say.

People always leave. They say its not good-bye. They say its not forever. They say not to worry. They say it'll be fine.

When is it ever? When is it ever what they say it is? Give me an example, I'm begging you. I need an example, give me one.

God-damn. She's like a mother to me. God-damn, shes my place to run to. Fuck.

Fuck. Its always just me. Fuck. I always have to retreat into myself. The one place I had, the one place that I could go to. It always leaves.
Why do I put the faith? Why even try?

Because I need to. But this always happens.

" There are somethings in this world you rely on, like a sure bet.
And when they let you down,
shifting from where you've carefully placed them,
it shakes your faith, right where you stand. "

Sometimes, when I really think about it, I feel stuck in between two worlds. Two worlds of High School. (Maybe High School's one word, I don't really care.) Sometimes, I feel like I can't be the popular girl, party type, even if I wanted to. And I feel like I can't be the one with the GREAT grades. Usually people have one road or another. All about friends, not necessarily popular when you first hear the word, but they're out with their friends and "fuck the world." Or all about school, all about grades and thats great, hey, college is already set up for you.
Either way, you have at least one thing going for you. I have a little of both, I'd say, but I'm stuck. I believe I don't spend enough time with my friends, which really isn't my fault most of the time. No means. Usually, they're the ones that can't hang out. I don't go to parties, whether that's my choice or not. My grades frankly, have a lot of trouble staying afloat. Sure, I'm not failing (not yet, at least, currently) and never have, I have gotten one D (that is on a final report card) and now a second, but my grades aren't "college will be a breeze" or "valedictorian" material. I feel stuck in the middle. I think there is something in me that has yet to decide. Do I want to be the one that is all about school? Though, honestly, anytime I try I crash and burn, so I honestly don't think I'd be even able to choose school. Or do I want to "fuck school" and disappear with my friends? When I think about logically picking a side, I don't believe I belong in either. I don't believe I'd fit.

Which makes me think, "Then where do I belong?" Where am I supposed to be? I really believe I'm lost and stuck and this isn't the best place. It's a very depressing place. I don't WANT to be here, but every which way I look, I don't see a chance there. I don't see a fit.

Maybe I'm too scared to take the risks, is that what I need? I don't fucking know, I just don't fucking know.

Morrison is being put down today. I've never had an animal be put down. I've had many die, in bizzare ways or in our arms, always around us. Except for on, Hendrix. Hendrix was Morrison's brother. They're ferrets. Hendrix died during surgery. This is different. I've never said good-bye to an animal before I knew they were going to die. I've never had to say goodbye. I've never.. I don't know how long I'd need. I've never had to say goodbye knowing when they return, he wont be with them, that he'll never be.

When we would take Hershey, my dog who is the closest thing to me, to the kennel while we went on vacation, coming home with only her collar to be ready to leave for the trip was one of the hardest things. Then coming home from the break and not being able to see her there, even knowing she'd be there tomorrow would send me into a breakdown. That wasn't say goodbye forever. And while I'm not as close to Morrison as her, it's just as hard, if not much harder.

[Morrison has an insulin tumor. Surgery wouldn't help, even though we tried. The tumor comes back and only buys time. His episodes, or attacks would be when his insulin would be very low. The first time it was down to ZERO. Zero levels of insulin is brain dead. Luckily then, he was close to a hospital already. When he has an attack we have to frantically feed him as much sugar as possible.] I realized yesturday, when he had another of his attacks and wasn't jumping back as fast as he normally does, that it's so much harder this way. After an animal gets old they usually have problems. Problems that need your attention. Medicine, injections, or the like. As you spend so much more time with them, seeing them through their worst moments and coming back, over and over, you think it'll always be that way. They'll come back. When you realize that it's just getting worse and it takes longer to get them back, you know you're loosing your battle, and their going to leave. You realize that this can't keep happening forever. You think the time is so far away, that you have so much time.

You don't understand. Ever since we got those two, they've been in our room. This room I'm in right now, my room, went from being shared by three sisters, to two twins, to just me. And all that time, they've been in here. The two of them. Yes, we lost Hendrix a long time ago, but Morrison was always still there. Seeing him come out of hiding, sleeping, running across your feet. Or hearing him at two in the morning under your bed and youre trying to sleep. You take those moments for granted, they'll never happen again. All his hiding spots are gone. While re-arranging my room, he was having more attacks and needing his medicine precisely on time, so he had to be confined to one area with no real hiding spots. Towels, houses, bookshelves, yeah. But he was always there now. No more hiding. Peak over, and see his head pop out of his favorite house/carrying bag.

It's funny. That last episode was the first time I was ever there while they were bringing him back. I was there most of the whole time. Before, I'd usually find him and call for them, always scared he was already dead or too close to be saved. That last time, when I found him, he was just laying there. So many times I thought he was already dead. Too scared to go see and pick him up. Anyway, that was when I realized that... that because of all the more time you spend with them, seeing them through the good to the bad, nursing them back to health, you build such a stronger bond, more of a connection. You'r schedule gets built around these moments, for them, only in the end, they'll make you sader. When you realized you don't have to do it anymore.

Last night, he was making so much noise in his area. He kept waking me up, and rumaging around. It was like.. he knew and was giving me one more moment to remember his presence. It's funny. Last night I dreampt of Hendrix. It was all so wierd.

It's sad how I used to hate hearing him while I was sleeping, I mean I was trying to sleep! How. in the early days, he'd make a LOT of noise under my bed and I'd pound the top, the mattress, to try to get him to stop. It never worked, but just.. how now I'll be missing it. Every night. Realizing he isn't there.

Ferrets are annoying a lot of the time. They poop everywhere, they scatch and digg holes at everything keeping them confined. It's wierd how those things you hated, are whats going to make you so sad in the end. I remember cleaning my room, trying to get the poop out of the carpet, the hidden food [they like to hid their food] everywhere, the stolen food and objects [they LOVE stealing things and hiding them] found behind or under my bed.

How that one time he pooped right under my computer, and I stepped in it and I was so frusterated and disgusted. Remembering how I'll never find a hidden surprise again. How I will be alone in my room now. How even before I never thought of my room as occupying more than one thing, for some reason, but how it really will be only me now. I won't all of a sudden see him scurrying across the carpet. How he'll never be there while I'm sleeping. How he'll never be there when I wake up. No more two oclock in the morning medicine sessions.

I remember when my mom brought them home. I remember taking on the phone over getting them. My sisters and I all for it, my dad all against it.

I.. I.. don't get this.

I strive for those precious moments that only come once in a while. Walking home from a night out with my friends, I turn up my iPod. As James Blunt's "High" lyrics blast to my ears, I slow down. Remembering just two days ago, the unimaginable snow on the ground, right where I'm currently walking. How it melted the day after but the memory still remains intact. I stare at the lawns and the houses and picture the white snow. How.. unbelieveable it was, how.. impossible it was, even how out-of-the-blue it was. Snow. In Los Angeles. I thought of how this was a point in history the next generation would ask; wondering when the last time it snowed in Los Angeles, just like I always am. I stare up at the sky, the dark blue, navy, almost black sky. At first I only notice a couple of bright stars, but soon I notice the others. Listening to "High", staring up at the sky, I remember the snow. I do a half circle and once again it's put into focus; how I'm this one point on earth, how the stars aren't even in the same planet. How these stars I see, witness their beauty, are all the way out there; oblivious to Earth. I remember back to a recent plane trip. It was a somber mood as a family of six was coming home with only four. My sister and I were next to each other, with my parents behind us. At one point in the flight, just before the sun was rising, we passed a large collection of stars. From there, they were huge and seemed in such reach. They were close and bright. It was the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. I showed my sister and my mom saw a smaller collection. The dark sky, the bright stars, the contrasting clouds; it was all so amazing. I felt so alive and hopeful after that moment. I felt so lucky to have witnessed that sight and be able to carry it with me forever. I started crying, out there on the street. I felt so alive again, hopeful, lucky. I felt trust and love and safety. I took  a deep breath and continued staring at the stars, the ground, imagining the snow still there. I walk up my steps and imagine the sight I had coming home that Wednesday, staring at the steps and the ice layer they had on top of them. Before I returned to reality and the problems this world has, I took a deep breath and promised the sky that I'd be back. I imagined the breath going all the way up to those stars and settling right there beside them; my heart, my body, and my soul.

Its snowing. In Los Angeles. Right outside my house. Oh My God. It hasnt snowed in LA since..1962. And that wasnt in Westwood, or by the beach.

Oh my. I've never lived in snow before. I've visited, yes. Oh my god I'm excited.

[Excuse me here while I go insane.] LIKE WHAT IF WE ALL WAKE UP TOMORROW AND THERE IS EVEN MORE SNOW AND AND AND WE DONT HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL!

Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you. Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new. You say go slow; I fall behind. The second hand unwinds. If you're lost, you can look and you will find me. Time after time. If you fall, I will catch you; I'll be waiting. Time after time. Time after time. Time after time. Sometimes you picture me, I'm walking too far ahead. You're calling to me, I can't hear just what you've said. You say go slow; I fall behind. The second hand unwinds. If you're lost, you can look and you will find me. Time after time. If you fall, I will catch you; I'll be waiting. Time after time. After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray. Watching through windows, you're wondering if I'm okay. But you say go slow; I fall behind. The drum beats out of time. If you're lost, you can look and you will find me. Time after time. If you fall, I will catch you; I'll be waiting. Time after time. If you're lost, you can look and you will find me. Time after time. If you fall, I will catch you I'll be waiting. (I'll always be waiting.) Time after time. Time after time. Time after time.

I'm scared. I'm scared of my mother dying. I'm scared of my world being ripped apart after one moment in time.

I'm scared I'm gunna loose everything.

I KNOW WHAT I MISS AND WHAT I WANT. I KNOW WHAT I STRIVE FOR AND WHAT I HOPE FOR. I KNOW WHAT I CANT LIVE WITHOUT AND WHAT I CRY FOR EVERY NIGHT.

BABY, WHY  DOES EVERYTHING I WANT HAVE TO BE SO FAR AWAY?

I miss music. I miss the emotions tied to the strings. It's almost as if you can feel the time and work taken to make a song, a chord, a voice, a beat. It's almost like you were there and you know how much soul was put into it. They made theirselves vulnerable to produce this beat, song, music to share with us.

Its' something so special, I can't even comprehend the whole process. Such a wide world of possibilities. Such soul, longing, desire and hope.

I miss Brooke, mostly. I miss your music, your "voice", your words and your expressions. I miss you so damn much I just never had the time for it to hit me. And now it does and I'm so fucking bored and frusterated. For once I don't want to sleep, which I usually do when I feel bad, lonely, whatever. I don't know what to do with myself. Brooke, all I want to do right now is talk to you. Hear your voice, understand your words, your mind and what the hell is going on in your life. I'm disconnected, and thats' okay, I understand. It wasn't only you, it was me too. But it's been too long. I don't even know how long it's been. I don't even know the last time we spoke. Brooke, I miss your mind, your soul. I miss your look on life.

All I want to do right now, is know I don't have to cry, because your right there, waiting.

Maybe. Maybe, I'm just missing everyone <i>old</i>. If you can get what I mean.

If we wait too long, it will be too late.

"Rand writes Anthem as a warning to those who believe that collectivist societies can ever be successful. She warns that losing sight of the individual and his or her needs will lead to the destruction of all progress and all forward movement. Nevertheless, she believes that the individual can never really be dominated—he or she will always resurface because freedom is part of the human makeup. Rand believes that no matter how hard society tries and how many people it kills in the name of collectivism, the individual will still rise up and declare him-or her-self his or her own purpose."

"And here, over the portals of my fort,
I shall cut in the stone the word which is
to be my beacon and my banner. The word
which will not die, should we all perish in
battle. The word which can never die on
this earth, for it is the heart of it and the
meaning and the glory.

The sacred word:

EGO"


Haha! Anthem by Ayn Rand

Patrick. I love this guy. On the glorious day of July 26th, 2006 he became mine. As of today, November 26th, I have had him in my hands for four months. We've had very many downfalls, but we've come back up. He is still healing from his last illness, white-line disease. But, as you can tell, he looks a hundred percent healthy now. His hoof wall just has to grow out. After our lesson today, the sun was setting after his dinner and these pictures captured a moment in time. I love my baby boy, Patrick.
[ We had some in-stall pictures too, he was tired. ]



i am complete.


all images © ashlee hauss (benign 440752) 2006-2007
do not steal / it is illegal, a federal offense.

Yeah. I gave up on that last journal. It was just too stupid to continue writing about. Plus, I was too tired after school.

Yeah. Now I wrote two new poems. I particularly like the last one. Maybe you will too.

WITH ALL I HAVE LEFT

You don't know the pain i've gone through.
You're my only sanity left.

Don't hurt me, i'm trusting you.
Don't betray me, i'm trusting you.
I'm trusting you will all I have left.
I'm broken hearted; used and abused; thrown out and forgotten.

I have one more chance, but i'm scared.

Show me what a real person is.
Show me they're not all bad.

And i'll trust you will everything i've got.
Which isn't saying much, i'm sorry.

But it's all I have, and it's all I can give.

I'm trusting you, with all I have left.

LOOKING UP THROUGH THE RAIN, NEW AND ALIVE

life has wonders and life has let downs.
rise up from defeat and you'll be stronger.
sink down and cry.
dig yourself a hole and be alone for a while.
then find that hand, that helping hand
rising out from the darkness.
suddenly, it appears there.
and there is a shining hope
you have a chance. i have a chance.
we can rise up and be stronger.
pull on that hand, letting them hold you
right until you're on your own two feet
and you can rest your weight on yourself now.

stronger, you can hold yourself up now.
take a step. make that move.
scared and shaking, make that move.
take a step and reach out.
forget the possiblities
of life falling from under you.
forget that feeling of being helpless.
forget that feeling that you don't know where you're going.
just take that step and grow.
take that step out into the world.
one step baby, just one step.
reach out and stretch.
you feel whole, and complete.
you feel safe and engulfed in emotions.
happiness, stability.
you feel proud. of yourself.
maybe for the first time.
take that step.
yes baby, take that step.

maybe just one more,
and then you'll find yourself running.
running, beat after beat.
flying, your heart soaring.
your heart beating for once,
whole and complete.
there's no chance of breaking here.
there aren't any thin walls or holes left inside.
you're full and new and pumping hard.
you're running, and you're alive.

you're finally alive.

My school peers are so lame and stupid. Seriously. A week after we were informed that our schedule would change, they decide to walk out.

Of course, they don't go to the school board meetings, write letters to important media, or notify someone that can actually do something.

No, they go and "walk out." Ha. They obviously don't know the concept of hosting a walk out. There were no signs or posters, no. There weren't any media cameras or board members there, no. They walk out of class when the clock strikes eleven. (Yeah, they're dumb.) During our third period everyone shouts and exclaims, "YEAH!" [Shakes head.] Some people. I noticed some freshmen walking out. What the hell? They have the least idea about what the hell is going on. There faces, huge smiles walking proud. Ha, right. You think your so cool because you're "sticking it to the man." God, learn some common sense before you do something you have no idea about.

God. This change will take NINE days of our summer away. Nine days of one summer out of your life. Gee Golly, NINE DAYS! HOW WILL I LIVE?! This change causes use to finish first semester before winter break. Think about it. The teachers won't be able to assign us assignments. We'll have an actual break. The main reason for the change is AP classes. Something about nothing to do for the last month of school after AP exams.

Stupid. Finish this later, back to class. Lunch is over.

Oh, right. Drivers Ed. Fuuun.

It actually is quite fun. The online demonstrations are anyway; nice flash player illustrations. The only bad part is sitting in this chair reading a page. Page after page, the voice in my head gets tiresome and boring and I have to listen to music or read out loud.

Eh. Leaving in 15 minutes to the 50,000 prize Grand Prix show. Yippie.

I'm still in that little rut of mine. Sorry I havn't been talking to anyone. I do miss talking to people, but I still can't think straight.



I think I failed my math midterm anyway, grade drops 10% too. Hopefully I got at least a B or C. We'll see, we'll see.

I'm not going to be talking. Or writing. Or what-the freaking hell-ever. I can't make sense and I don't know what my brain is doing. It's not connected to me. I don't understand one thing I try to say or think or understand. Let alone go to school, learn something, and do assignments.

I miss you, Brooke. I wish I could talk to you. Only, I won't make sense. And trying to talk is only making me feel worse.

I have to go ponder how I'll write an essay for English in this state. Or study for my Math midterm. Or write my History essay. Or my Biology test, project, and notes.

I feel detached, stupid, and most of all: Lost.
I can't find myself. Or get my brain to work at it. I hang my head, accept it, forget it, go on and wish it was different. There's nothing left to do; nothing is working.

But... I need it to change.