Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Dear Anonymous, Who is "Anonymous"? Who are they made up of? What are their views on life, on womans rights? Why do they do what they do? Should people be scared of them, or feel safe around them? When do we even know we are around them? Are they real, or is it just what the government wants us to believe? Will we ever really know?
The only reason I ask is because since they are hackers, pro hackers, the best hackers and I don't know what else, they can hack my life and finally tell me who I am. I mean, if they can get info and some guy who doesn't want them to, they can do it on me, too. It's not like I don't know what my name is or where I live or what ever, I know those things. But when someone asks me what my favorite food is, my favorite place, I can't answer them. I wish I could meet with the person who started anonymous, ask them how and why and when and where, all those questions. Ask them what their goal is, if it's to help people or the government or both. Ask them how they got to where they are, how they found themselves. Maybe if I asked them to tell me who I am, just maybe, they would be able to.
I feel as if I should change this blogs name to "My Dreams/Wishes" for it seems to only contain that.

A lot of nothing

As I close my eyes, I feel a pain in my stomach. It's burning as if a lighter was on in my stomach. I can't do anything but lay in bed, with my eyes closed, wishing to sleep. When sleep finally overcomes me, so do my nightmares, but I can't wake from them until they are finished, and I never remember them. All I know now is that I am scared to sleep, to dream. But life here isn't fun, so I just lay in bed, imagining a better life I could live, with better people in it. The days pass, not slow but not fast, they just pass.
If I could dream, it would be about him. About what I wish we were, even though we just met. I'd dream that he'd come with me to different countries, he'd help me find myself as I would him. I'd dream of him for I know he could never be with me. We are too different, I am too different.
But sometimes there's a reason to why dreams can only stay dreams, and for my own sake, I don't want to know. I'd rather think the best about someone than to find out the worst about them, especially if that someone is one of my friends, or even worse, relative.
People say that I act like a baby 50% of the time, and the other half like the strongest person they know. Others that don't know what I go through say I only act like a baby. I know I do, but that's just because sometimes I just need to take a break, and let someone else take care of me. Sometimes I wish I was still a baby, to have someone take care of me sounds a lot easier than to have to do all the work. I don't know if living as an adult will be much fun. Work sounds horrible, and devoting my life to a child that will probably end up hating me, or at least saying they hate me, doesn't sound fun. But people say it is worth it, so I guess I have to find out for myself.
I might dedicate my life to helping people, or at least I want to, but I don't know how. I wonder if anybody does, if heroes actually plan out what they have to do, or what they want to do, or if they just do it. I wish I knew. I wish there were cheats in life like there are in games. To be able to have all the money and happiness and look healthy and fit will eating what ever, and not doing a lot of work would be amazing. But then again, if there were cheats, I wouldn't want to know them. How can someone be happy not doing anything? But maybe I'd want to know the cheat to be happy, and how to make others happy.
October 11th was my birthday, and every wish I made was about him. I feel selfish, while innocent people die, people get bullied, and people hurt, all I wished for was him to like me. But will he ever find out? No. I plan on leaving here, this lifeless place, as soon as I graduate. I'll keep my feelings closed from him, I'm used to liking guys from afar. Anyway, I'd rather have a friend, or so I tell myself. Some day he'll find out, if he doesn't already know. But pretending is what life is about, pretending to think you won't die, pretending to not know someone likes you, pretending that you'll see eachother once you've passed. Maybe humans should have been called pretenders, maybe that is what the word human meant a long time ago. But we all will find out one day. We always do.

My name should be Mover.

In Virginia, there is nothing to do. It's a place where nothing happens, good or bad, happy or sad, exciting or boring. It's different than in Vancouver, very different. The people aren't the same, they are more reserved here, they care too much about themselves and aren't open to as much as people were in Vancouver. Not all of them are like that, but a lot of them are.
I find myself alone here a lot, as if I was sitting in the middle of a crowd who spoke a different language than me. Time passes, not quick, not slow, it just passes. I am finally a senior but I feel as if I should be in first grade again. I lost my ability to write, to excite, to do anything but be. I feel as if the only thing I do is homework, but I still get what they call here bad grades, C's and B's. Personally I am proud of myself for not failing, but I can't stay proud for long with people saying I need to do better.
I haven't written here for so long, mostly because I forgot I even had a blog. Writting and reading is like therapy for me, though right now I just need help getting out of here. Which brings me to my topic, changing my name ot Mover. I won't actually do it, but it's a thought I like to think. I love moving, mostly because I am in search of something. Of a place where I can call home, a place where I can be comfortable and feel not normal, but how I usually feel. Do I even know who I usually feel? No, but I tell myself that moving will help me figure it out. Maybe it will take me my entire life to find the one place that I can call home, but I know I won't stop searching until I found it. I mean, who wants to be burried or die or be burned or what ever in a place that they don't like? Not me.
I miss hugging the most. In vancouver, my friends and I hugged to say hello, goodbye, and anything and everything in between. Like, after saying a joke about one of my friends, I would then hug them. And they would do the same. Hugs were like breathing. Living like that, and then being switched to barely any hugs is a big change, and I like hugging more than anything.
I wish to be a great writter, so I can entertain myself, and who ever reads this, too. I'll try to stop neglecting this blog...I mean, practice makes perfect, am I right?