I shall never grow up

I should not be an English major.

All I can see is the symbolism in this.

Instead of writing my paper, I just spent 20 minutes editing my interests on facebook. Cut down on a lot. Feeling very uninterested, apparently.

Today, one of my English teachers told me that it must feel like I am writing the entire newspaper.

I dyed my hair "Raspberry Truffle." So far, it's a hit. Also, I am wearing my faux leather zombie jacket like its my job. Looking especially badass.

Talked to my mom. Depressing. Talked to my dad. Even more depressing.

I wrote a pretty killer poem earlier. However, its recipient was not nearly amused enough.

Feeling very weird today. Wandered around the Dell looking for the moon. I couldn't find it but was scared inside by a certain voice. Eventually found the moon and then sat outside writing my paper for half an hour.

Can't deal with most of the stress and drama of my life anymore.

Succumbing. Ignoring. Not sure which one.

I need to write my fucking paper.

fading zombie eyes
under the sidewalk light
cigarette smoke tendrils
up to the muddy sky
everything is going to be alright
tired fingertips
misspelling my requests
sleepy head
my pillow calls
goodnight
goodnight
goodnight

I feel like I might burst if I don't write this down. I might cry either way, actually.

I'm here alone, at work, for three hours again. I hate it, its too long. Too much thinking. Too much sitting. I just feel so gross, miserable, terrible, disgusting, ugly. I can't help it. I think I have been depressed for a while. I've just been ignoring it because I'll have those good days. Everything goes right for 24 hours and I forget how sad I am. Now, though, I think it is catching up with me. i just want to sleep and dream and forget. It's been a rough couple of months so far and I don't think I have sat down and really processed it. I know part of it is just me being dramatic but I mean, I have not absorbed everything that has been going on. None of it.

I'm listening to "In The Aeroplane Over the Sea" and its just making this worse.

It hurts to be alone. It hurts to have no one to cuddle with. Not even Misty. I haven't really slept with someone since I got here. Not even when me and Craig were together would we stay at eachother's places. And no, it wasn't my fault. Not at all. I wanted to. I wanted to so bad. It makes me sad knowing that nearly everyone in my house has someone to stay with at night. Someone to keep them warm. Not be alone with. At least on occasion or accidentally.

And I want someone to take care of me. I can't remember the last time someone took care of me. Not since I was a little kid, you know. My mom got in her accident when I was in second grade and that's kind of where it ended. Then it was divorce. Then it was David. Then it was Jenna. And its my Dad.

Its always me caring. Always me chasing. I want to be wanted. I want to be cared about. I want someone to make me dinner. Sleep with me at night. Even though the bed might be too small. I want to feel beautiful and I don't know how to do that on my own.

I don't want to be here right now. But, I don't want to be at home. I'm so scared to go there and see Steph's room empty. I don't know how it came to this. I just don't get it. At all. And I don't want to go to my Dad's and see her living there. I just feel like its too crowded. Struggling. Rough. Rough. Rough.

When will it be done? When will it be enough? It's already too much.

I feel like these words have been 20 years in the making.

And I like him and I want him and I don't know why and I can't explain it and I wish I could think it away. But I can't. So it hurts. And I am just being foolish and making a fool of myself. But it's nice to read. And write. And talk. And think. And there isn't enough of that here. I think that's what is getting me. Getting to me the most. You know, it really is as simple as, "If you can cheer me up I could learn to love you." I just want to laugh.

Fuck.

I wish I could smoke and like it. It fucks with my head though. I had the biggest panic attack the other night because I smoked. I was convinced everyone was talking about me and then I looked in the mirror and hated me so much. Then I hated all of my writing. And I hated hanging out with him so much. I just feel left out because of it. It is like the great communicator. Unification. I'm on the outs.

And You make me feel like shit. i think you make us all feel like shit. I don't know how you don't see it. You're fucking tiny and you don't eat carbs. That is just total bullshit. Don't fucking tell me you aren't going to eat until Sunday. Fuck you. That is so god damn stupid. Fuck You.


I'm done. DONE.

This morning when I woke up I made a list of the things I wanted to do today.

• nap
• shower
• clean my room
• charlie work
• grocery store
• homework
• e-mails for Torch
• write

Now, I don't even feel like napping. I have not showered since Saturday. I think I have to even though I do not want to at all. My room is seriously gross and I don't know how it happens so quickly. Our house is a mess so it is very likely that I will be doing all of the Charlie work. Like usual. I have not gone to the grocery store in weeks. I have been mooching lately, however, I do do all of the Charlie work and I bought us pizza on Friday. For those of us that actually eat food, that is. I do not have too much homework tonight which is a relief. And I cannot e-mail anyone until my editor e-mails me. So hopefully he will soon. Yesterday, before the Writer's meeting he came to me and told me that he would prefer that I write the top story. I was pretty happy about it. Which leads me to the final to do: write. I want to write my articles and I want to write more than my articles. I am in love with writing, as of late. My most recent paper for my Intermediate Composition class is one of my favorites. I think it is kind of hilarious. Writing is the one thing I am kind of okay at and I think I am starting to develop my own style. I want it to be professional but casual, heartwarming and heartbreaking, hilarious and serious. I want it to be everything my tongue can't twist, my mouth can't say. And I love that Max and Kevin are English majors. My major is the one thing I am okay with right now. Although I may have turned everything else in my life upside down. I like to write and I think I made the right decision. I will never be the best but I will be me and that is all that matters when it comes to writing.

I might go home this weekend. But, I have not decided yet. I need a coat and to sleep. Recharge.

belonging. belonging? Belonging! Be longing. Belonging. belong. be long. be longing. Belonging? Belong. Belong. Belong. Belong.

I have been a hot mess lately.

"I self-medicate with drugs and alcohol to treat my extreme social anxiety."
Yes, I "Admit It!!!"
I think its okay for now though, I like to be able to talk.
Last night, I remember lying in my bed, falling asleep to the sweet sounds of Rose and Meg laughing at my tipsy ramblings.
Often, I have found myself sitting in my room, alone, laughing at how ridiculous life really is.
I am sooooooo fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucked!

But its okay.... I love 518 Dell South. Very thankful for my roomies. New friends. Jim and Pam's wedding. Its gonna be alriiiiiiiiiight.

I have no fucking idea what I am doing. All I know is that these butterflies are killing me. So, should I suck it up, stand tall, be brave? Or should I cower away, stay safe, no risk? I can't keep doing this. That's all I know. Too many chances. I am more sorry than you are.

Wish me luck?

Reminiscing: I still want a black eye. I miss standing on the edge of circle pits and pushing people back in.

Starting to actually tutor on Friday. Nervous wreck.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Hopefully not a coincidence.....

My room is a disaster zone and I am a train wreck.

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Ugh, long night ahead. Already exhausted. I hate talking to people. Straightening my hair so people will want to talk to me. Not scared away by my mane. Wishing I could sit around all day and watch Malcolm in the Middle. Becoming a pro reporter. Just kidding. Journalist. Just kidding. Hack. Column though. Thoughts? Names? HearSay.....??? Clever? Dying for THURSDAY night, The Office. My only refuge. Da Da Da. Birch w/ my fahrend tonight. Good things. Pittsburgh boys. Punchline? Nah. Toooooo much work. Makin frends. Mkain ferends.

Alright, so, I am so psyched. No. Beyond psyched. My editor liked my review and he said it was really good. And he told everyone so. Sorry if I am bragging, I am just so happy. So yeah. I can't wait for Thursday when the newspaper comes out. I am going to snatch up a gazillion copies and mail them home and to my Dad and to El and etc etc. Then, I am going to hang it on my wall and scan it into livejournal so the whole world can see and know! Maybe even hang it on the fridge here. Wahoooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

AND to top it off! He also said that I might be able to get my own column and write reviews every week! And that the column could have a fun name!!!!

So, I hope that I will stay good at it and people will start listening to fun. and like my reviews. Even though, I feel like, no one reads that kind of stuff. But I used to and I always wanted to have my own music thing in the newspaper and now I do. And this is something I could really see myself doing for the rest of my life. Like, music journalism. Like writing for Alternative Press even though most of the stuff they cover now sucks but it would be cool! They have summer internships and I want to do it! Move to Cleveland for the summer. It would be SO cool.

I am just so happy. Really, really, really, really happy.


:) :) :) :D :D :D

I have to write a CD review for The Torch. I am so nervous! I am reviewing fun. Which everyone should buy and listen to on repeat. It will make you so happy. School is alright. I had my first and last Arabic class yesterday. It was impossible and just not worth it. At all. Other than that all of my classes seem swell. I am going to start tutoring too. Also kind of nervous about that. My room is the best. It is so bright and colorful and wonderful. I have all my posters up and my pictures. Everyone is jealous of my Pineapple Express poster. But my favorite part is my Jen Vogel original artwork. It is so pretty. I love it. Oh and the house is great. We have a real kitchen and an upstairs and a dining room, a living room. It is just great. I am really happy about it. Me and Ashley already made Chicken Parmesean and it was pretty delish. I love being able to cook my own food and not have to go to the caf every night. And she bought me some Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade and it was tasty. I miss Mary Lou's! Please come visit. There's plenty of room and I bought Holes on DVD.

I met a Native American whose last name was Black Eyes five minutes ago. Also, his friend told me we were soul mates because I like The Academy Is... and Bright Eyes. Anyways, they sold me Elle for 75$ because I am one serious sucker.

Missing Scituate + Everyone!

Can't Wait 2 Sleep In.

Be Back Friday.

TWIMC,

I want you, you, you, you back. I wasn't done and I don't think you were either. My collections weren't complete. A few spots missing on the shelf. Reserved for you. My shoebox isn't full either. So could you do me a favor and come visit? Because once you told me "Thanks for coming back." But now, there's no point if you, you, you, you won't be there. Come on! I thought we had an understanding! We did not even get a real goodbye! How will I make it through all the lonely nights, desperate days, dragging weeks, and never-ending months without knowing you'll be on your way back soon enough? Or that eventually, with a little patience, you, you, you, you will have made me something new? We had some good times. No, great times. So, why throw it all away? This is what it comes down to, I guess, why? Why? Why? I'm pulling for you! I do not want this to be the last 20 bucks I spend on you. Let's just rewind, change your minds, take it all back and we will forget any of this even happened. If not, I'll have to make you a part of me for good. A reminder I can take anywhere, everywhere with me that at least I belong somewhere. Important lesson learned. You got me going and kept me lit. Thank you. Even if you ignore my pleading. Thanks for everything. You'll always be my favorite.

Love,

Samantha Christine Swider

I don't know how to express what I want to say. Actually, I do because I always say it. I wish I realized how cool  I was in high school. I'm not trying to brag or boast. I don't want to come across as self absorbed. However, it is utterly undeniable. It is unlikely that anyone will read this or care at all. This is strictly being typed for my own amusement. Who am I kidding? I know there is a legion of die hard readers out there eating up my every word. Likely much more starving for my clever quips and intriguing commentary than usual because there has been a month long gap between my posts. Especially since my last entry definitely pushed everyone to the edges of their seats. Anyways, I'm sure you are thinking what is this chick talking about? I am clearly alluding to my high paced, adventure-filled former life. Although I never thought I'd see this day back then, now they are only passing memories. There are no more late night ear drum bumping, thumping sessions. Significantly less red line, green line hopping. And if its true that home is where the heart is then I am slightly homeless. And no, I don't have the Blues, I'll never have the Blues because I find solace in knowing that somewhere on Landsdowne street, I did a lot of my growing up. I can't speak for anyone else but I like to think that we were all in it together despite the frays. We made it throught with just a little help from our friends or those bands, strangers, albums or whatever you want to call it. But now what's left? If it hasn't been torn down and fancied up, it went out of business, broke up, or sold out. Still, there is nothing I hold as dearly or closely as those days when we were too cool to even know it. Now, however, I no longer lead such a purpose driven life. I need to find something to make me tick again. Or maybe it will find me? 

I am so heartbroken and devastated and angry. I do so much for her. I buy her coffee every day, drive her where ever she wants, pick up/drop off Stephen, lend her money, clean up her messes. I was going to bring her to that stupid bakery next week because she wanted to so bad. I lie for her. And then she does this. After all the other goddamn shit this week. C'mon. This is not how you treat your sisters. Or your mom. Or your dad. But especially yourself.