Action before thought

First of all, I would like to wish everyone a politically correct winter holiday! And I would also like to tell all of you how much I treasure each one of you in your own special way. You make my life complete even if I can't find the right words to express that love.
But life happens and those times were I might have been able to show how much you mean to me, get lost. They fall in between the cracks of time that I wish could have been filled by something more than trepidation and  awkward glances were my eyes are full but my jaw is set. I wish I could communicate with something more that just mere words because emotions preceded languages. But then I fear that my heart would run dry.
And I just wanted to say how lucky I. For my awesome friends, my family, my house, my life, my everything. I don't feel it at times when I get a bad grade in Apush or when my family doesn't understand the way I function. But I am. I eat so well I feel like I need to grow a second stomach. I get everything I need at Christmas and I can turn on warm fireplace when it gets cold. I wish I could fully understand that. But when my family starts stressing, I get caught up in their frustrations and it hurts me more than they know. The thing that troubles me the most is that I've begun to stop caring. I've begun to witness how little words and promises can mean. How cracks can open up in the ground and you can stuff them shut with "I will"'s and "I promise"'s and anything else you want. It's an awful way to live.
And I don't want to become like that. So if you guys would do me the great service to yell at me if I don't fulfill a promise and to badger me until it's done or until I die because otherwise I'll have this aching in my chest that probably isn't going to go away for a while.
Or maybe it's just heartburn...

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Cwazy Kwanza and a Happy New Year!

The new term...

I keep having these dreams where I'm in school but it's different. The hallways get smaller as you go down them or the ground is uneven, the rooms are darker than usual and cramped with strange colors and smells emanating from doorways. Then there are the dreams where I'm late, I don't have my books, I've just started in the middle of the year or it's just the wrong room (or I don't have my shirt...). And I can't help feelings of foreboding. Like I'm just wandering through these empty halls filled with people; lost and the bell is about to ring.
My friends are closer, I like my classes more and I'm finding more about myself everyday but it's quickly becoming unstable. Like a tower ready to topple and there is absolutely no stopping it.
I'm falling, flailing, scratching at air. There is no balance, no safety net waiting to catch me. The wind picks up around my ears and all I can hear is life rushing around me. But I'm always falling through it. When a moment comes, no matter how hard I try to slow down and breathe in the air, it's gone. Floating somewhere above my head in the cyclone that my life has become.
So I hold on. I grasp the moments I can salvage in my mind and pull them into my imagination, trying to relive them because at times, they still seem like the only real thing to hold on to. Then I realize I'm passing this now by.
So I'm trying. Trying to live now. But it's getting harder the less sleep I get and the more homework I receive. And so I sigh, trying to fill my being with something other than panic. Something that feels right.

Carrying on... Somehow

Somehow, I've made it this far. It's the middle of October and I'm already starting to feel that burnt out feeling. The one where you know you've gone so far and the next step is going to make you fall and bleed. But time's got your back. Or rather, it's pushing you ahead; forcing you to go on even when your tank is running on empty. And that's just school. Chores, visitors that just tire the crap out of you (and for some reason, only speak Arabic), and trying to maintain a social life while scraping by on the bare minimum of sleep is a fucking chemical bomb smiling at me.
Taunting me.
Jabbing its razor sharp finger in my face and pointing out that my toes are already touching my breaking point. I don't even have enough time to be writing this. I've lost. Life won and I lost.
So I'm drowning myself in anything will take away the awful realization of how much I've screwed up in just a month or two. When did four years become so important? When did my life spin out of control? When did I even have the smallest semblance of control in my life? Cause I'd like that feeling back. I'd like to actually feel like what I'm doing makes the smallest difference.
Why did I have to wake up? Why couldn't I have just lost myself in school, or my friends, or anything that actually mattered? But no.
I'm lost in this idiotic thing called my mind where it can't distinguish between midnight or 3 am until the next morning. Where my mom's voice is as distant as an echo until she's standing in my room, yelling and wondering why I'm not vacuuming, studying, reading, or doing something mildly productive. Where nothing means anything until it's gone.
Even now, with some Snow Patrol playing, I'm stuck in a place between action and thought, and I'm lost.
How do I get out of this cycle of just waiting for the yelling to start, the grades to fall, the dog to start whining, the house to catch on fire before I finally turn the facet on and douse the flames bucket by insufficient bucket?
When do the flames at last consume their creator? When will my nights burn bright from my own skin? When will this world actually make sense to the person trapped beneath her warm and consoling blankets? When will the questions end and German grammar will actually make sense and people will finally be able to grade my quizzes correctly? (Okay, it's not in the right blank but I did the work and it makes sense!)
Angst... Teenage Angst. The Bane of my current existence.
Sleep is my own consolation. Sorry friends, family, role models, favorite authors, teachers, pets, movies, books, and even Buffy. But my mind is weary and my eyes are sore.
There is an expectation everyone has in their lives and of themselves. I've been... misled by mine. School was supposed to be something I could handle. Life was just a conduit for my innermost thoughts and this... was supposed to mean something.
You try to make something out of it.
I can't.

Well, hello there. It's... way too late for me to be awake but considering the nap I took earlier, I believe I'll be okay. Or just semi-coherent tomorrow.
I'm very excited for CWC this year. It seems to have more structure and direction than last year (which was still very awesome). But I really want to do some good writing; to find a passion and actually flesh it out. Most of my writing last year was based on spurts of inspiration, but not much else. Even now, I'm finding it hard to word these sentences and keep the paragraph going.
And there it goes.

Peace, love and endorphin induced highs!