To make myself a creative, interesting, and an intellectual character requires reading, writing, and drawing. As I read from somewhere else: I wanted to be those things since I knew what they were.

I used to read a plethora of times when I was younger; write more when I was younger, and drew more when I was younger. Now those things, which are very important to me, are lacking or weak.

To be more than the energetic girl, the one who smiles to brighten other's days although mine can be broken, and to be thought of more than what they call 'the little girl with a pretty face and smile'.

The ones who are brilliant and creative are ones I admire and respect more.

In candor, it does not help that I do not have people like that around me more often. Either they are in another state or he still wants his space and time.

Why do people find it odd to put fun in something intellectual?

I admit I am bitter towards her, and she does not deserve it. It is not her fault for being borne in to a family like hers.

I know it is silly of me and inane, that I become upset over her accomplishments. She is able to graduate, take her senior class picture, go to prom, etc., and I was unable to do any of that.
I was unable too because of my family situation and my lack of progress during high school.

What I dislike most is her mother boasting about her, and speaking of how great, she is and how others are not.

I know I ought not to be upset over that, but in a family that expects so much from you and think of small failures as a big issue puts so much pressure on me to make them happy.

Maybe this is my problem: focusing on making others' happy, instead of my own.

I only wish I had done better...

In the past, I have taken ballet, tap, gymnastics, and hip-hop. My mother put me in to these classes at a young age, or as she said, since I began walking.

Whether it is noticeable or not, dancing is a big part of my life.

I deeply regret not continuing these more than anything else...
One day in ballet class, when I was six years old, for some unknown reason, I told my mother I do not want to do it anymore. Again, thinking back to what I was doing and when that thought occurred seems unreal to me. Honestly, I do not remember what brought that thought up, in fact- I did not even think about it! Those awful words just came out.

Three years later, I entered hip-hop; however, I did not stay long since my family and I keep moving.

Perhaps that is the reason those words came out. Perhaps some kind of spirit opened my mouth and spoke from my chords.

I was always moving.

Therefore, after asking if I really wanted to quit, (ballet, tap, and gymnastics) my mother had taken me out of the school. This was the time when my mother and my step dad moved in together; this was the beginning of our life and the end of a short story.

From ten years old to fourteen, I danced along to music, imitated dancers on TV and from people I have met at school.

Then high school came and I was not dancing as much as I did before. Sophomore year came I did not dance at all.

Now, I am 19 years old, and I regret not trying hard enough to do what I love.
I watch these dancers now on TV and the internet and two months ago, I began dancing. However, my body does not feel fluid, graceful, and powerful. This is my mistake...

I have a list of regrets and this is the one I regret the most.

I cannot be like that dancer I was, and better.

I will never forget that day when I quit.

I want to hide and not be bothered.
I want to sleep and have my dreams accompany me.

I miss them.

well, in actuality, I have never had them, in the first place.

I do not want this loneliness to keep showering me with its love.

why do I want to hide, and not be bothered- when I honestly do not want to hide, and be in company?

Yes, my mind has been cluttered with regrets that I am unable to put down.

After two years, I am still wearing the blackened veil of guilt I have placed over my shoulders and eyes. I have done nothing tremendously wrong or any sort of impact on any one else in a negative way, but the things I regret are on myself, alone.

Mainly, they come from high school:

1. I did not applying myself, fully.
2. Not committing myself to other clubs I was interested in.
3. I could have done better in forensics.
4. Disappointing Mr. G.
5. For not writing a 'sorry' and a 'thank you' note to Mr. G. and Ms. F.
6. I did not spend enough time with peers.
7. I did not apply myself in anything (although I thought I have tried).
8. Alcohol abuse.
9. I did not achieve anything.

Others:

1. For not committing to home school every week, once a week.
2. Not receiving help during depression.
3. Being callous towards my little brother, he did not deserve it.
4. I was brash to my stepfather.
5. For the trouble, I was putting on Sean.
6. Discontinuing ballet, tap, and gymnastics.

Now, I regret sending the test to Longridge Writer's Group. I have been accepted, and I am well pleased that I have, however there comes a cost which I am unable to commit; also, the lack of motivation, dedication, and heart. My heart is not there, or perhaps I am not confident enough to pull through it. Although I would love to join, and I have not been accepted in this way to the point that it is overly flattering, I am unable too because I need to save my money for important things.

I would love to be published nationwide or in distinguished magazines or other publishers; but, that is a dream, and not the only dream, I have to put on hold.

My loneliness is slowly dying; or, perhaps I am learning to accept it.

I have been rather shallow, lately. One of my reasons for that is so I do not have to confront any of my inane feelings or thoughts. The other, is so that I do not have to talk about them.

I have been forcing myself to write, which is not always good; however, it is helpful because I shy away from myself.

I believe one of my biggest flaws is the lack of confrontation, within.

Derrick Brown

He is brilliant.

My boyfriend and I (surprisingly, he came) saw him at the Found Theatre in Long Beach. Originally, I was slightly interested on seeing Amber; however, Derrick took that spell from me. Sean enjoyed him, as well (but, he did not melt in his seat like I did.), and we enjoyed Brendan Constantine for his intensity and laugh.

He may be the one poet I really admire.
His words are alive, but his performance brings them to a different level.