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[Mar. 11th, 2007|07:42 pm]
you are like the bully on the playground
but worse in many ways.
even when I stand up to you
you still don't go away.
get a hint, get a clue.
I'm not eight anymore.
Now I will yell back from behind my closed door.
at least the bully on the playground knew when to quit when stood up to.
but you haven't got a hint, not even the slightest clue.
you're the bully on the playground
and you've just been stood up to.
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[Feb. 25th, 2007|02:30 pm]
I crawled into bed with you, my bed on the ground was too cold without your body heat that I had become used to.
you held me and I heard you breathing out of your mouth.
I baked cookies and you helped by eating the dough.
And I told you to leave so you could come back again.
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[Feb. 12th, 2007|09:55 pm]
I need lists to help me to worry less, that is what this is for and also why it is so specific and also inspecific at the same time.


New York trip- 2/16-2/24
what to bring;
clothes- some tanktops for underneath (3-5)
mostly teeshirts, to accomodate my excessive wardrobe changes(7-9)
also sweatshirts one or two.
jeans (black and blue straighlegged, butterflies, bearhearts, weathervane/ transportation pants)
pajama pant(s)-sweatpants and old navy stripies and shirt(s)- workcamp shirt, sports bra, cami, maybe another pajama shirt
bra (even though there is one I wear the most, I could bring two)- polka dots and racer back probably
undies fo' realz. (10?) all the ones that fit good
socks. (10?)
shoes (pair of flats and three year old converse)
coat
blue hat and purple fingerless gloves and bright green scarf(?)

towels (one or two...) pink and a white one?
hairbrush
toothbrush
toothpaste
shampoo/conditioner
soap (tabac)
washcloth
q tips (lots)
shaving razors( 2)
shaving cream
scrubby loofah thing
makeup removery stuff
makeup (bronzebrownlightgold, blueeyeliner, brownandsilvereyeslicks, pinkstuff, blackandbrownmascara, foundation(?))
deoderant
hair wax (paul mitchell and american crew)

juice and [cup(s)?]
book (whichever I am currently reading and possibly a poetry book)
knitting
ipod and charger
school stuff to do if there is any
money and chapstick
brownies and peanut butter cookies that get baked probably on thursday night.
amsterdam bag and it's contents.
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[Feb. 1st, 2007|07:43 pm]
Dear Justin Kohl,
 when you dumped me the second time it took me three or four months to get over you. And another four or so until I could have what I would call a "successful relationship." so today I found all eight notes you wrote me, and note by note and piece by piece your words turned into what they actually are, monochrome confetti. All but a few of the notes were completely shredded by my fingers, but the few where your handwriting was actually legible were ripped so some words were still singular and whole. I put those words in a bag and picked them out and rearranged as I went, and I wrote a poem with your words. Just a little "hey, thanks for making me feel so emotionally fucked up for so long." I don't even think I put it strongly enough, but there's only so much I can do with a bag full of your words.


I was a little like you to say
that you stress how I let you down.
back to you, I say "dear, love will know the world of me."
Dear, we hear about distance,
sorry I said "I know, I'm really glad you're happy."
You finished this.
And for some hearts to be told;
"I don't want you."
I hope now you are too.

(ALT ENDING EXTENSION)
Else I just
Ask you to wish honestly, with much doubt,
for a better life (without me. [I dont know about that add on.] )


Then, with the one note you wrote me, that made me feel wanted completely for something that felt like the first time (probably because it was). My favourite note from you is getting something nice about love drawn over it, hopefully so your writing won't show through, but the underbelly of them will be there, and this is symbolic but I doubt you would get it.

go stick your damn head in the oven, thanks,
maia.
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when zach waegell is in my dreams. [Jan. 26th, 2007|12:45 pm]
careening away: okay so about my weird ass dream, if you'd like to hear it.,
iLubSkateboaaaaa: i would
careening away: So Im in a bed in a room I dont reconize and it's night out.
careening away: And I get out of bed and go to the closet
careening away: and basically start taking all of the clothes out, and for some reason they were all dresses, and I was throwing them on the couch in the living room.
careening away: And I had one left and I was going back to get it but then in the hallway behind me appeared my friend zach but he was all blue and black and spirt-y ghosty looking.
careening away: And so I ran back to my room, and I was trying to crawl up inside the dress while it was still on the hanger so he wouldnt see me?
careening away: And he saw me and said "you're mine!" so I was freaked out and I jumped out of the closet and ran past him outside, to the street.
careening away:and my "parents" were coming home from somewhere in their suv.
careening away: And I was like let me in let me in!
careening away: and they did but they didnt relock the doors right, so zach took "my mom" by the hair and he was in the car and we were still trying to driveup and into the garage.
careening away:And like he was going to make us ram through the garage unless my mom let him take her.
careening away: So she let him and we didnt crash into the garage.
careening away:And then I woke up because I was freaked out.
iLubSkateboaaaaa: waa
careening away: It was scary.
iLubSkateboaaaaa: sounds it
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[Jan. 8th, 2007|05:10 pm]
I couldn't tell you how many times I've dreamt I was a giant. Stomping my way through cities and crushing skyscrapers on my trek. How many times I've dreamt, when you're far away, that I am taking huge steps through forests with trees like toothpicks to me. It's almost everynight that I am dozens of feet taller, sprinting through acres of farmland and vaulting over bridges with no more effort than stepping off the curb into a street. And every time I dream this my only goal is getting to you. I always wake up before I do. But some night, I'm sure I'll come upon you. Hold you in the palm of my hand, cradle you like an egg I'd never want to drop.
I don't know if these dreams imply that I would hurt anyone or anything to get to you, to be with you. Or, that I would topple buildings and crush cities trying to find you. Or maybe it is an indication that even in my sleep my mind is finding some way to keep you there.
And just as many times as I've dreamt of being a giant, I've dreamt of being the size of an ant, maybe smaller. Clutching fast to dandelion seeds, my journey to you taking months instead of just hours. I've hidden myself away in the down of birds. Whispering to them, making sure they take me where I need to go. Going through a field is parallel to swimming blindly through murky green water. Nights are even worse, I keep moving, resting on places the ground has retained it's heat from the baking sun earlier that day. In cities I run and jump to catch onto the trailing shoelaces of those much bigger than I. When I finally reach you, drained from my voyage that seems transcontinental, climbing one leg of your jeans seems like scaling a mountain of dark blue denim. Reaching a pocket, I rest on the seam. I traverse your sweater and finally reach your ear, I tell you that I love you. And your eyes widen in astonishment as you sweep me into your hand. Lying between poison ivy scars and the life line in your palm I rest.
As small as I am, I would find a way to you. Through puddles that seem bigger than the ocean. Through open fields, that feel as dense as pond water. Even in my sleep, my miniscule dreams, my mind finds a way to keep you there.




this could definitely have more and be edited.
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[Jan. 3rd, 2007|01:09 am]
Let's see...
vacation, sure. I got a bunch of people demanding that I do shit with them. Sorry if I couldn't but sometimes I just can't deal with people unless I'm with the ones that know me best. Obviously this vacation was really Adam oriented, because he goes back to college this sunday and won't be home again until march (maybe).
whatever.

I notice that whenever I'm deep in a relationship a lot of the mental content goes out of it and it becomes purely physical. This is a problem with dating when you are my age because your hormones tend to be like "blaaaah I would rather make out then talk serious with mah boiiii" and it's just totally no good.
Rocky Votolato is really good.
I hate myself a lot, usually. I don't treat my body well, and it just sucks. Not good stuff.
hey livejournal, this is shit! ~*~luv maia~*~
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operation sunrise, revised version, part deux. [Dec. 7th, 2006|10:44 pm]
[Current Mood |madd anticipatey son.]
[Current Music |The Longest Time- Billy Joel (thankyoualexis, stop.)]

I know that everyone of my whole life would like to spend my birthday with me. But I have concocted a plan of epic proportions involving Adam and I and I'm not sure if it is happening birthday night, or night before birthday night. But whatever happens, you as my friends will have to deal with it because this plan took somewhere around two hours to get into a workable and amazing form.
The plan is as follows: Adam and I will find a way to spend most of the night, probably driving around being safe and obeying the speed-limit. Then around 3:30 or 4:00AM we will start driving towards the cape in search of a beach. (Times will be altered as needed for actual sunrise time and traffic flow.) Upon reaching a beach we will break out the warm liquids and a blanket and watch the sunrise and marvel that we have gotten to do something so "romantic" with eachother. I have wanted to do this with someone for a while, and the fact that it is kind of a date, and kind of a birthday present too it will probably be the best birthday ever. Providing it all works. And of course my friends will make my birthday amazing too I'm sure. I'm just really excited about operation sunrise on top of all of the other birthday festivities.
Now I need to go work out though, because I didn't last night, and yeah it just needs to happen.

"I want you to know that I intend to hold you for the longest time."
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Let's get physical, physical. [Dec. 4th, 2006|10:38 pm]
[Current Music |Continuum- John Mayer]

I just worked out, for pretty much the first time since last spring. If I could remember what I did I'd write it down so I could remember to do it again in a night or two. Essentially I did two sets of everything, minus the pushups, because I did ten after each thing I did. I started with situps, 25 each side. (left side, right side, middle, far left side, far right side.) This would equal....250 situps all together. Then I did 25 (and second set 20) Bicep curls. Thats 45 for the biceps. Then I did 20 and 20 for flys, which are so hard. 40 altogether. Then I did those...behind the head things, 25 and 25. 50 for that. And then I did 30 and then 20 scullers. Scullers are basically a leg, ab, and arm workout, all at once. So there's 50 again. Then, add in ten pushups after everything and multiply by two. But add five because I started at 15. So let's see...15 after the situps, 10 after the curls, 10 after the flys, 10 after the behind the head things, 10 after the scullers. Thats...55 pushups. This was from 9:30 to 10:10. Crazy!

I had written something else in here, but tabbed browsing just fucked me over and erased it. So...fuck that I guess! Maybe later. Or something.
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"I'm in repair. I'm not together but I'm getting there." [Dec. 3rd, 2006|09:36 pm]
I updated my ipod hardcore today, got album artwork for most things and got the new John Mayer cd, and Say Anything (...Is A Real Boy). Good.
Obviously, something went on with me and Adam while he was home for college. He's back there as of today and coming home in t minus 19 days. Then after he goes back January 7th or so, he isn't coming home again until what seems like May 26th or the 29th. This sucks because: Yeah, I like him. He likes me too. He is four years and two days older than me. He goes to college in New York six hours or so away. I miss him already and I just saw him last night. Obviously if he is coming home in three weeks and I miss him so much right now, isn't it going to be a bitch when he doesn't come home until May? I get attatched far too easily. Two weeks with Adam and I'm practically, figuratively clinging to his leg like a little kid. This sucks. I need to learn to deal with my shit better.

"Come back, please don't leave me now.
I'll be all that you need in life.
Because I can't live without you and
I know all that you need,
I can give you everything.
When you're so far you'll forget about me."
Friggin shuffle, with friggin The Early November.
I went christmas shopping yesterday, but I only got presents for two people so far. I hate buying gifts for people, because I just think it's stupid to buy shit for someone you really care about. I wonder why just caring about them isn't enough in the friggin holiday season or whatever. I mostly just got a bunch of shit for me because I'm selfish or something. I went with Adam, and cc and ugly. Obviously the latter got on my nerves.
I just want him to come online so I can talk to him or something. This sucks. I'm lame incarnate or some shit. When I write how I feel I just sound angsty and my problems seem similar to everyone else's. Could I be anymore stereotypical?
Fuck it.
I miss you, I missed you before I even got out of your car. I miss you more knowing you are six hours away and you miss me back. Thinking this is stupid and childish. Missing someone makes me feel weak. This is why I hate caring about people. Because there's all this extra emotion and effort involved in caring about someone. Indifference hurts less. I guess. I miss your stupid gross scratchy beard noise too, even though I pretend to think it's icky. It kinda is though.

"I wanna keep you by my side, holding off tidal waves."
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My Day. [Nov. 30th, 2006|12:12 am]


Other things not included in the above: Toolbox called me and woke me up from my nap today to talk to me for ten minutes, he wants to visit me on friday. Fuck that, I'm hanging out with Adam. I did laundry today, and folded it all nice and put it away and everything. I have my ipod on shuffle and it hasn't gone into cardiac arrest yet and I've listened to most of the songs that have come on. I am being tolerant today. Lifehouse is on and I hate them but I'm listening to it anyway. I am so greasy, I need to shower. I have been thinking of something weird and I'm not sure if I want it to be true or not.
Ho Hum.
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so long since I've written anything [Nov. 27th, 2006|10:33 pm]
[Current Music |Jack's Mannequin]

I never write in this, sorry.

I hate this city, it's so busy and I just want to be able to see the stars clearly at night. Without sirens and yelling and the thumping bass of souped out mazdas and jettas. I wish to be with the people that still matter to me, before I sink completely into some sort of depressionistic mindset.

I wish for boys who believe I'm important enough to remember to call back and to set other activities aside for. Like that will happen though.
If this sounds bitchy, it is. Sorry.

To: someone I know, who I know doesn't read this.
Ever since I talked to you a week or two ago, for clarification, I've felt weird around you. You touch my head and rub my back to bring me comfort, but it all feels disgustingly paternal since I asked you. You say you want to figure me out and to just trust you. I don't believe I'm someone who can be figured out so easily. And I hate that everytime you stroke my hair or pat my leg it feels like you're my goddamned father. I know I'll miss you so much when you go back to college in less than a week, but I also know you'll be back.I love spending time with you because I missed you so much when you were six hours away in New York, but I hate that I feel weird when we do hangout now. This is something else pushing me into a depressionistic mindset.

Someone just told me how important I am to her and how much I deserve. Sometimes I forget things like that and it makes me feel a little better, or maybe a little worse for being such a bitch all the time.

In the city, I blow off my friends (aquaintances). I care about one or two, on occasion. Not even all the time. In the mornings I am barely able to will myself out of bed to get ready to go to a school that makes me feel awful. I get up for five minutes, so I can get dressed, and then I go back to sleep until fifteen or twenty minutes before I have to leave for school. At school, I barely understand math, I feel like a retard. I wish I did, but I haven't learned math since the seventh grade. (What a coincidence, I was at tantasqua then.) So this is the first year I've learned algebra, and slope intercept is hard. But since I really hate approaching people I have a hard tiem asking for help and admitting I can't do something. No, mom, it's not that I'm an "honour student" and that I think I'm too smart and don't need help. I just find myself unable to ask for it. One on one attention with an adult frightens me. I don't really like people very much, contrary to what most of my friends (aquaintances) may think.

To: someone who needs to learn how to pick up a phone, who also wouldn't ever read this.
I wish you would call me back, I wish you could remember to, I wish you thought I was important enough to deserve a fucking phonecall. One that's been promised to me, twice or more it seems. I know many other people believe I'm important. I know you don't want a relationship because of our four year, two month, and one day age difference. I wish you could see that I like you, and by actually trying for something with you I was putting myself back out in the open, and I was hurt again, which is exactly why I was avoiding guys. Possibly guys like you specifically. I wish the age didn't matter, and honestly, truly, I just wish you would call so I could talk to you. I'm trying to tell myself I won't be the one to call you first, even if it means I'll never hear your voice again. But I'm close to calling you, if anything to bitch at you and ask you why you didn't call me when you said you were going to. But more likely, to forgive you and absorb whatever you say to me about why you didn't call. You talk about music and it's almost too much for me to deal with because you talk about obscure stuff, or some kind of grindcore shit I would never care about. But I still listen to you, which must be an indication that I like you, or I'd tell you to shut up and never talk again.
You told me that you might move to Boston in mid-january, with two girls, to try and open a coffee shop. Maybe I don't know you that well, but I don't think you can do it and I don't want to see you shot down by a big city that you aren't exactly ready for. I would like to have faith in you, but honestly, I just don't. I don't think you can do something like this and (again) I wish that you would understand that.

I need sleep, I haven't written this much about myself or what has been going on with me...in probably ever.
I might not even update this everyday, but it's a start and venting feels pretty good.
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[Jan. 18th, 2005|06:37 pm]
[Current Music |Daphne Loves Derby.]

I want a guy who'll kiss my collar bone. I really do.

Give it up. There's nothing in this room but bitterly cold air and a lost sock. It's been empty, there's a penny covered in dust. Broken glass in the bed. And blood on the sheets. It sounds like another quaint murder mystery. Another hopeless tragedy. Hey babe, why are you still hanging around this broken old joint? Why are you still wearing her favourite shirt? Where have you been, and where have you gone? There's a musty fog obscuring the room. There's someone else's glasses on the bedside stand. Someone else's scent lacing the air in a ginger sweet sorrow. Another romance riped while you've been gone. How long has it been anyway? Hmm babe? Remember when you used to kiss her collar bone to wake her up? And now you study her photos bleary eyed in a miserable confusion. Did it hurt when you hit the ground? Why are you still here babe? Are you afraid? Once you go you'll never come back. The smell is getting stronger. Is that lightning outside? That fluoresent whitening glow? Furious against a black-black night sky. She cried whenever the stars fell. But the stars aren't out tonight and neither are we to look up at them. Take a look for yourself, they've all dissapeared. Do you miss them, the little bluish one you once called your own? There's a staticy radio playing in the back, the same broken tune, a melody of hurt and pain. It's tinkling slowly to a halt now, winding down to get away from here. Tonight, we should just run away. Let's get away from this place. It renders me breathless in an empty unfeeling way. Where did you go? She's gone now too...An acoustic guitar begins to play on that radio now. Loud and harmonious begging for attention in a stranger way than most. Was that star painted on the wall in canary yellow always there? Just get away. Why haven't you gone yet? There are some many reasons you should've, this place holds too many memories. There's a letter on the floor, something forgotten to be sent. It has your name on it, smudged as if it almost shouldn't be there. In the envelope there are cracked pictures, her face x'ed out. And a letter, the ink too faded to read, on her favourite paper. A clouded print. With a vine of black roses draw up the side. More stars on the deep coloured wall now, count them...One, two, three. There are too many and the guitar is fading out, it's harmonious gliding skidding to a stop. Is that thunder? Has it begun to rain? I think it has. Leave this place, just get away. Get outside. In the thirst quenching rain. How long has it been since you've danced in it? Dance on the soap box for all to see, collecting dimes and half-dollars so you can flee. The purple and bruised pink of dawn are begining to creep over the moonless sky. Something is out of place...It's just a memory, so you can change it, right? So change it, the place, maybe the time. You could change the outcome, make it so you never left. You could be happier, or maybe dead... It's just a memory so you can change it. Warp it along the lines of infinity and take to the skies flying. Prolong the moment before rain, turn down the thunder, and black out the lightning. It wasn't supposed to end like this. No, it shouldn't have ended like this.
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