Jabberwocky

You guys really don't understand how much I miss Karns. I've decided I might just threaten my mom that if she doesn't send me back to Karns, I'll kill myself. I was reading Helen's old blog and I got all nostalgic. That place totally owns HVA. I hate my school so, so very much.

And something's really bothering right now. I just can't find this poem I wrote last semester on the back of a German paper. I really liked it. It was about a guy and girl who are always sneaking out to see each other at night, but at school she's nothing to him. So she dumps his ass. It wasn't a personal poem which made it all the better.

And I wish I lived in the Republic of Dave. Don't ask it's a video-game thing.

Anywho, I have to get to piano lessons.

Laters,
Rhiannon

Ashes to Ashes

The pitch-black sky stretched for miles as two old friends, a man and woman in the prime of their lives, sat on a front porch, watching the deadly sky. The man sat in the corner holding his knees, with a fearful look in his eyes. Lying upside down with her feet up in the air while she stretched, the woman yawned, coughed harshly, and checked her watch.

“It’s half past noon,” she informed her friend and sat up, crossing her legs like a child eager to hear a story.

“Never wanted to see the end of the world,” the young man sighed and leaned against the railing. “Always thought it would come long after my children were long gone.”

“Well, somebody had to see it,” she responded and stood up. Her voice sounded as far away as her eyes looked, now wondrously gazing at the midnight afternoon sky. Coughing again, she looked down at her friend and offered a hand for him to take. Reluctantly, he took it and pulled himself up to stand next to her. Walking toward the road, the young woman paused only to pick up a stick in the front yard. Her companion followed, curiously, as they walked down the road to the edge of the neighborhood to the street.

With the mobs now hiding, or worse, the street, once a busy highway, now was littered with trash, a few crashed cars, and the occasional sign of death. The young man tried not to look at that last bit when they did come across one. His associate, on the other hand, seemed not to notice such things at all. In fact, she seemed to notice nothing as she strolled the street, poking cans and hitting pebbles with her stick. So distant from this hell, she would only stop every once in awhile to cough such a hacking, horrid cough that her friend would stop as well and sigh.

“We’re dying, Eve,” he finally said plainly, after a particularly intense coughing fit that she had to stop and sit on the curb. Behind them stood the grocery mart, with its windows shattered and food, necessities, and other things strewn across the parking lot. The screaming, fighting, and gunshots now had been replaced with an eerie silence.

The silence caused young man’s hands began to tremble, and his friend looked up at him, with a trace of fear in her eyes. The fear, though, was not for his words, but for his expression. His eyes had the gleam of a madman, for he was surely mad, and his face twisted to this panicked frenzy as he spoke.

“We’re dying,” he repeated, more angrily this time, “And there’s nothing our technology, our science, our prayers can do about it. Christ, you’d think that we’d be able to do something about it, but in the end, the high and mighty human race falls like ants beneath a kid’s magnifying glass to Mother Nature. You and I, we kept our heads when all were rioting in the streets. We were calm and collected when all others were trying vainly to cheat death, and what do we get for our rationality? We get to die like the rest of them! They acted like animals and we were calm. It’s getting harder to breathe. And look at you, Eve; you can hardly stand.”

The woman looked at her ankles and he took a step back. “We’re going to die,” he, with a manic laughter in his voice, yelled to the heavens as he tugged at his hair, looking desperately for an answer, “and there’s not a damn thing that can save us!”

With that, he collapsed to his knees, coughing. For the final time, he repeated a single phrase. This time his words were filled with despair as he hugged his knees and in a soft, broken voice cried, “We’re dying, Eve.”

The girl embraced her best friend and told him in a calm, comforting voice, “Adam, we were always dying.”

===

Okay so, it's been awhile since I wrote in this. First off, the preceding story kind of came to me while I was watching a Twilight Zone. It was originally going to be two old friends sitting on the front porch admitting their love for each other at the end of the world, but just how the boy seemed so anxious, and the girl seemed so laid back, made me want to make them go for a walk, and eventually, Adam lost his mind. Then I just had to end it with that line. It kind of wrote itself. I'm debating whether I should submit it to LitMag or not. So when you comment this, it would be helpful if you point out things that sound awkward or things that don't make sense. Btw, extra points if you get the title. I don't expect anyone to get it though, so don't feel bad.

Secondly, update on what's going on Rhiannon-World, so far 2oo9 has been amazing. I haven't cried yet so that's a good sign. Granted, it's only the second day, but I digress. As for what's been going on since I last updated, I've been kind of caught up in a bunch of stuff recently, if you know what I'm talking about good for you, if you don't it doesn't matter because I'm finally over it and getting back to myself. I am not in any way looking forward to going back to that hell that is Hardin Valley Academy. Seriously am I the only person who dies a little inside when I remember: "I don't go to a high school; I go to an academy."? It makes me want to shoot a bunny in the face. I really, really hate that school. You have no idea.

Thirdly, I wish you a happy 2oo9. Whether jolly old 'o8 was the best year of your life so far, or the worst, or even just an okay year, every year has the potential to be better than the last.

Once In A Lifetime

So I'm in my room right now, eating Cool Ranch Doritos, drawing, and listening to the Talking Heads' album "Stop Making Sense". So out of frustration with my momentary lack of artistic skills, I get on myspace and decide I need to change my status. Then when it asks me what mood I'm in, I come to a blank.

And I realize that I'm perfectly happy. It's as if nothing in my life is wrong.

I know that's not true. My life right now is far from perfect. First off, I have a massive headache, and I feel like I might be sick. There's other stuff, too. Most of my close friends have boyfriends or other friends that they'd rather spend time with and I'm okay with that. I do have other friends. They're all at different schools, but when I am with them I have some pretty damn good fun. Still, it doesn't help the sting when I realize I'm starting to drift from all of my closest friends. Again. Not to mention I'm still failing Chemistry, and I'm probably going to end up not being able to bring it up before Finals. And I really don't want to do summer school or worse, repeat Chemistry.

Hell I'm not even eating the right flavor of Doritos. I like Nacho Cheese better.

But all of this isn't an issue. I'm happy in the purest form of the word. I guess it's just the feelings of euphoria from last night haven't worn off yet, but something in me doesn't want to stop smiling. I love it. And I love how, for once, this feeling is one-hundred percent me. It's not because I'm smitten by some guy or because somebody else made me happy. I'm just happy. It's as if there really isn't any problems.

I'm positive if I were a drawing, I'd be smiling like this: ^w^

The Downward Spiral

I think my parents think I'm on drugs.

I'm not sure what's wrong with me.

I walk into rooms and forget why I came in. I'll spend minutes standing in a room staring into space.

I've basically moved into my head permanently. I spend hours down in the basement imagining things. It's like my own private Terabithia. There's nothing down there but me and my thoughts. I just sit on the couch and think. It's not even like when you're a kid and you make believe and talk out loud to yourself. It's just living in an internal world while the external world sees you staring at the ceiling and occasionally smiling or making a movement to mimic what's going on in your head.

My rationality has shattered. I'm softer now. My vulnerability has shattered. I'm darker now.

It's like a split personality. Sometimes I'm fun Rhiannon. Sometimes I'm cynical Rhiannon.

I went an entire day talking in the third person because I don't know who I am.

I've never been so happy, and yet, I've never been so sad. For once in my life, I actually feel included and have friends I can talk to for hours, but yet, never have I felt so isolated.

Like it's all unreal and it could shatter at any second.

It wouldn't be a surprise if it all turned out to be just another day dream.