can't see for the brightness steerin me blind.

"what did you have in mind?"
"sunday's a good day to get someone to cover my shift and spend money on you"

I don't care if you saw my tweet about it. This made my day. Period. Because this was someone not bashing on me or telling me I'm doing something wrong or asking how many AirHeads they could buy with $1. End of story.

"well you know november has come.. it's gone away"

Today I worked snack shack with Justin and it was crazy fun. Aly was there too. But it was better with Justin cause he's just so chill and he thought there was rocky road ice cream in the freezer.

"we were spittin venom at most everyone we know / now let it drop / let it all drop"

I don't really know what to say. Mentally I'm a disaster. Really. I'm doing this whole trying to lose weight thing and it's really just a downer because I want cake and Ben & Jerry's but I won't let myself cave in this time. And my muscles hurt from working out. I'm trying so hard. But I fail at that. So we'll see.

"hold on to what you need / we've got a knack for fucked up history"

My music is just weird tonight. Personal collection, not Pandora. So it's all over the place. But I need sleep. Maybe I'll write something worth reading tomorrow? Maybe not. I want to laugh at myself for how pathetically depressed I am over a cupcake.

summer skin.

So I started my summer blog today. [wonderlandinsunshine]. Y'know. In case you were wondering or something.

"should've known, should've known, should've known again / oh here it goes again"

Nabbed tickets to go back home today. You have no idea what kind of a relief that is. There was so much uncertainty as to whether or not I was even going to get to go, but now everything is fine because my parents paid like two-hundred bucks to fly me out there. I am so going. The turtles are going to be tight(: Plus the Delmar Loop and whatever else we feel like. GOSH.

"you wasted life why wouldn't you waste the afterlife?"

I'm starting to get really excited for the future again. Why? Because you have to have a stable present to be able to focus on the future. You can't plan ahead five years when you don't know if you're going to hold it together for the next five minutes. That's just ridiculous. Things are leveling out. And you know really, things weren't even bad for that long. Like. A day? I react too quickly. That's my problem. The moment something goes slightly off-kilter, I flip, and that just isn't okay. But there are times when this reaction rate truly saves myself (and those I care for deepest) from a world or heartache. It's so double-sided. So difficult.

"what's the point in compromise? / get your dignity and leave"

I haven't written anything in so long. I haven't had inspiration. I've just felt like this fat, amorphous blob of nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's terrible. So tomorrow I'm going to pick up one of my leads and make something beautiful. Stunning. Something to mirror the person I want to be. Something to aspire to be. A model. No. A reflection. Because I'm getting there. I'm becoming the person I want to be. The culture I have created around myself is intoxicating and lovely. I want nothing else, but to tweak and perfect it. My pen reflects who I am, and nothing less. I am my masterpiece. Mes mots. My lesser density.

"love it all love it all love it all"

But the writing must wait. Tonight I must sleep to wake up in time to go to the gym tomorrow morning. =]

i suffer you because you're beautiful.

This is what happened. And this is why I'm going to fall asleep with a smile tonight.

"Can you make the effort to learn how to be first withoutbeing first? Because this chase will kill you. And that's not what I want to happen. Besides. I'm much more infatuated with your flaws, like you are to mine. You're more endearing to me being imperfect."
"Are you sure?"
"Undoubtedly. It's lame to say this, but when I modeled they always told me to try not to make a statement; instead, just be a statement."

123ilovemylife? We're getting there. So getting there. Almost there. Really. And I officially love Keegan's song. It's amazing. I wish I had written it. In fact, I think I did. So there. Ha. You lose.

"i could sleep... when i lived alone... is there a ghost in my house?"

I've had a ridiculous night. Danielleparty was pretty much an epic bust (my room is so messy, tomorrow is summer cleaning...) but I feel so much better with the events. I emailed my hero. The woman I love to death and has inspired me to be who I NEED to be. I cleaned for about two seconds, then got distracted and transferred every single contact from my phone to my little address book because I kick it old school. I ate some grapefruit though thank goodness. And I determined that salty nuts would be my protein in extreme conditions. Overall, fairly productive I would say.

"yeah she's always avoided falling in love / it's due to her life as a private affair"

I think I'll finish this some other time. I just can't right now.

oh baby yeah yeah yeah. oh yeah yeah yeah.

So class rank stuff is on the brain. I'm feelin second. Sounds like a fairly safe bet to me, actually. 4.025? Yeahh. Sounds good.

"because i have never felt like this"

I guess everything's alright. Except I feel shut out from humanity. And I actually told one of the two people who did this to me how I felt. And being the idiot they are, they didn't pick up on the fact that it was THEM. Moron... So now I'm house-bound on the first night of summer. So what am I going to do? Have a Danielleparty. A LEGIT one. A really good one. I'm serious. I'm gonna clean, I'm gonna read, I'm gonna write (blog, yesyes), I'm gonna sit here and listen to the melodramatic tones pouring forth from my dusty Dell. I don't know if I could be happier. Well. I could be. But considering, I couldn't possibly be.

"you take my hand / we cross the lawn"

So I guess I'm just going to wait around and waste more time on facebook and tweeting until it's time for this shindig to commence.

"i suffer you so easily / we, we disagree / i, i think it's good to disagree / you are always saying that we are not the same / we are not the same"

I'm so scared. Everything is changing. And I don't know how to react. More on that later.

baby get close to me.

I'm taking Keegan's advice (again, recurring theme) and just writing everything out until I truly understand what just happened. It was probably one of the best hours of my life. Why? I felt like I was at home there, moving in sync with another set of lungs, listening to that song by Tonic, and that's a concept I've been struggling with so much lately. Finding home. Finding that place to rest my bones.

"baby don't give up on me / experience comes slowly / how optimistic can you be / to wait for things you can not see?"

The other part of me is falling to pieces. Priorities are lining up less than perfectly. What I said before we left may have provoked the actions, but it was never reciprocated. "Thank you" does not count. What happened... I can't tell if I'm letting go of who I used to be, or if I am losing who I am. There's a fine line there, and dancing with the devil has never been my forte.

"So just kill me off now / Because I ain't got a pretty face / So just take my knees out / It's my only saving grace / Don't come over to me and tell me how great I was / Just come over to me and tell me how great I am"

Maybe this will work. Maybe not. Only time will tell. I hate that cliche. Time is NOT the only thing that will tell. I will tell, and you will tell, and we will find out and then we'll tell.

you'll sleep tonight.

I don't know. There's so much but at the same time there is so little. So so so little. I guess everything's really okay because I didn't fail the French final and I won in the end with that whole other situation that doesn't need to be gone into and I've still got the people I need and they aren't going anywhere. But I also feel as though any little slip is going to send EVERYTHING crashing down around me. I feel like I've hit a wall academically and I'm stuck in a rat race for second place. I am afraid that I'm going to misword one paraphrased lyric and send my entire social atmosphere into a tailspin. I could lose the best thing that I've happened upon in months. I could slip on the wrong puddle, fall the wrong way, fracture the wrong bone, and lose everything, everything, on a chance, a whim. I don't know if this is fear or foreshadowing.

"i don't care just where you go as long as it's with me / and i don't care just what you do as long as it's with me too"

I spent the longish weekend in Glennwood Springs and it pretty much burned my brains. The smell of sulfuric compounds in water doesn't sit well with me. At all. Ever. Said water also tarnished my rings. Lovely.

"a song is just a game / i'm getting good at cheating"

Keegan just helped me with multiple things.

1. Understanding how to graph these ridiculous functions, &
2. Understanding that maybe I'm not such a doof.

"sometime in the fall fall fall / there'll be nothing to keep you far from me / before i'm long long long gone / there'll be nothing to keep me away"

Okay I should really just stop writing. I should sleep and read Grace & Keegan's blog posts and obey my nudges and tweet. Not necessarily in that order.

please learn from my mistakes.

No matter what happens, I'm holding on to this. This right here. This ethereal high, consuming and devstating and miraculously beautiful.

"let the love tear us apart / i've found the cure for a broken heart"

tee hee?

So pretty much today was one of the best days ever. Signed a business agreement contract thing. Made my life much better(: Tomorrow is going to be even better though. Watch out world. Danielle's back and with a vengeance; I'm kicking ass and I don't care what your name is.

"oh and forty feet remain"

so, so many things.

It would be apropriate that to say the last few days have been an absolute blur of happy, sad, fury, and all time lows.

"i get nervous when she comes around / when she comes around / when she comes around yeah"

I'm home sick right now, which is something I absolutely hate. Everybody knows that I don't skip school if it can be avoided. Make up work is the bane of my existance, andsitting around doing nothing when I should be at school prepping for finals really frustrates me. But last night might have my life. Seriously. Apparently I got some award for being good at Social Studies. I'm still waiting on an email from Mr. Anderson to hear about what actually went down, since nobody else seems to be in the persuasion of actually telling me anything besides giving me crap for being too sick to show. But something else happened. Oh dear. Did something else ever happen.

"let me know don't let me be / it's almost too easy"

A boy. The boy. Well. He doesn't know he's the boy. Maybe he does. Whatever. Anyhow. He basicall sorta ish asked me on a date Friday night. Except I'm not sure if it's actually a "date" per se, but I do know that I am SUPER excited because I didn't see this even being possible. Upon reflection I don't know if it is a date. So and so says that yes, it would be, based on what he said. But then I think about it and doubt clouds my once crystal perception, like it has this infalliable habit of doing. It's terrible. Really. I love my life.

"when i'm feeling lazy it's probably because / i'm saving all my energy to pick up / when you move into my airspace / move into my airspace"

No seriously. I love my life. Everything's kind of falling out from underneath me. But I couldn't be happier. Let's do this.

"let's dance to joy division/ & celebrate the irony / cause everything is going wrong / but we're so happy"

how you make my heart sing.

I'm listening to a load of Green Day right now because even though they aren't really my favourite, they are touring with Franz this summer (123ahhh) so I might as well dance. Seems to be a theme in my life. The music isn't always going to be Stereophonics and Bloc Party, but you might not even notice if you just find the candence and dance anyhow.

"am i retarded or am i just overjoyed?"

SO this freaking guy... I just can't decide about him. Seriously, he just goes back and forth. He acts like he hates me, and I would absolutely love to say that it's a front, but I can't tell all the time. Which is seriously annoying me. Because I hate not knowing, always. And I'm currently sitting through a conversation in which I am being told that he's insane or something. I don't know. Whatever.

"can i get another amen?"

I don't know what to say anymore. I paid too much for shoes today?

oh, i am flying to istanbul.

One bad trip apparently holds more weight than losing the best person that has ever been in your life. Kiss my sharries, O my brother.

"i'm gonna give my aimless love / my angry heart / my desire"

I really don't have anything else to say. Except Ham on Rye by Bukowski was seriously one of the best works I've ever read, strictly stylistically, and the story clearly embodied the very words written. Love. Do read. I have a copy if anyone wants to share. Next on the hit parade is Catcher in the Rye, but only because if I don't I'll be some sort of literari outcast. I'm not even looking forward to it simply because of the ridiculous mainstream affectation. Whatever. Then Doctor Zhivago, the great Red novel. Thank God I'll be back to things I'll have to actually think about.

this sentence will ruin/save your life.

I have no emotions left, you've drained them out, except for this one, this last lasting feeling I cannot purge from my being.

"home is where you hang your head / is where you rest your bones"

All I can feel is desire for that which I may not have. But maybe I'll steal it. I'm stealing it. And I will regret it almost instantly. Except for that split second in which the possession in my hands is new, shining, clean. It will be worth a lifetime of painful remorse. Right?

"this sentence will ruin/save your life"

chocolate pickle bubble.

So there's a guy but the past won't let me move on so I guess I'm just stuck in purgatory.

"i don't mind just where you go as long as long as it's with me / and i don't care just what you do as long as long as it's with me too"

i am a grown up, god damn it.

So I've kind of realized that this is not for me so I'm taking back everything, packing up and moving out, to somewhere where there aren't artificial, shallow, annoying, lying, cheating, backstabbing people and where I can carry out my life the way it was meant to be lived, that is to say to a standard of perfection, following only the footsteps I've mentally created for myself.

"but i've been down across a road or two / but now i've found the velvet sun that shines on me"

Shut up, you're not even on my level, so go find some trash to converse with that is more acceptable to make your acquaintance.

you see her.

So. I'm sitting in my room. I was in bed but I migrated to my table. Reading Bukowski. Amazing? Yeah. I think so. Drinking a raspberry iced tea. And I realize that this is the type of life I want to have.

"if this is it, all we have and ever will / if this is it, time is running out and standing still"

I am a literary piece of work, fueled by chai, driven by desire, and truly empowered with the gift of les mots in lesser density.

"i'll leave today cause there's nothing left to keep me here / i'll fade away, i'll turn my back and disappear"

Trust me: mine is a name that you will want to remember.

"you want to / but she won't let you"

can you read my mind?

I was writing something here last night and then my internet went out literally as I was adding the tags, because it's cool like that. Ugh. This is what I had written.

"are you lonely now?"

Here is what a normal person should write in their blog: Today was good, because amidst all of the fighting with parents and drama that remains unsolved, I got new earrings and almost bought these turquoise shoes but decided against it because I'd rather buy new Sanuks for the summer. I also made bank as far as I'm concered and locked up a job for next weekend. Yay for my life.

"time won't let me go"

But as we all know I'm not normal and so here I commence with the sort of blog you've all grown to expect and love.

"i had my back turned / you didn't realize i'm lonely"

I'm getting through Clockwork Orange and absolutely loving it. About twenty odd pages left. It's totally bringing back my Russian roots. Love that. I actually sent a text that said 'xopowo' tonight. I sent a message that said 'horrowshow' before as well, but taking it to Cyrillic just changes it. Totally new caliber of retardation there. Fabulous. I almost don't want to read the last chapter however. Why? Because it totally changes things between the American and British versions. Oy.

"i'm just a crosshair / i'm just a shot then we can die / i know i won't be leaving here / with you"

Oh and I really want to invent a definitive language like Burgess did with nadsat. I love it. And Franz is still my favorite band ever, no matter how much Born Ruffians I listened to after the show. And Take Me Out makes me want to cry tears of joy. It's like the wax dripping, finalizing the fact that yes, this is amazing incarnate. Here's the signature, seal her up, send it on out, this is my life.

"and we don't notice any time pass / we don't notice anything / we sit side by side in every class / teacher thinks that i sound funny / but she likes the way you sing"

I'm in the process of making some very important decisions right now. It's really quite scary cause I feel like I'm on my oddy knocky but I know I'm really not. Okay see there was the Russian bit again. Bog help me.... Forget it.

"and if you feel a little left behind / we will wait for you on the other side"

Seriously though. This is really sort of screwing with me. I think if I just take another few days like I have been (coffee, Pandora loop, no homework, sitting in bed) I might be able to come up with what's up here. Which is good. Yay. Because everything is pulling out from underneath me, and all I've got left are mes mots, my less than one density keeping me afloat. Dear God, don't let me lose them. Don't let me lose him. Not again.

"she don't think straight / no no no she don't think straight"

smile like you mean it.

"ich heisse superphantastisch / ich trinke shampus mit lachsfisch"

I am breaking hearts and taking names.

"you can feel my lips undress your eyes undress your eyes undress your eyes / skin can feel my lips they tingle tense anticipation on it / this one is an easy one / feel the word and melt upon it / words of love, words so leisured, words are poisoned darts of pleasure / die, and so you die"

I just wasn't aware of it.

"and it's the thousandth time and it's even bolder / don't be surprised when you get bent over / they told ya, but you were dying for it / she saw it and she grabbed it and it wasn't what it seemed / the kids all dream of making it, whatever that means"


She's got standards.

i awoke from lucid dreams...

"it's hard to rely on the rhythm section when they're all packing up and they're heading for the exist / yeah we're all just the same, a bunch of slaves to fashion / who are tall, dark and scared and just praying for some action"

Apparently I'm doing stuff this weekend? Going to Zach's tonight, doing strike tomorrow, going shopping tomorrow, studying, ghahgiurhejvne. I've kinda been down with the whole sit around and do nothing plan. Whatever.

"while i move away, hard times don't come until tomorrow / these eyes don't see, take you skin off when you're listenin to me / move away, hard times don't come until tomorrow / these eyes in me take you skin off when you're talkin to me"

1984 Day was silly. Silly is my new favorite word. But I did get some major cred from Mr. Hinman twice today for my solos last night. Positive? Yeahh.

"where did you go? oh where did you go? falling about, you took a left off last laugh lane"

And it really scared me today, because I'm standing there talking to this stupid boy and I finally saw something in him that I hadn't seen before, and I literally went to walk away, but noticed this and kinda made a weird face and came back for a minute. It was bizarre. But it was just like... He looked like he had grown up. Actually grown up. I don't know how to explain it, except for trying to put the sheer ridiculosity of the situation into words, which I don't even have the energy for right now.

"mascara bleeds a blackened tear / and i am cold i am old / at least as old as you are"

I have so many good ideas for pieces to write this weekend. I'm ridiculously excited about it actually. I love the idea of finally getting around to formulating and flowing around some of the theses I've come up with. It's seriously like the best thing that's going to come out of this weekend.

"it's almost too easy / i'm holding you by the hand / more like the nape of your neck / why don't you draw up a list you have to frequently check? / and put some things in order"

Who knows. Things are changing. I hate myself for thinking this way. But things are changing back to the way they used to be. Why? Because I had my dreams stolen from me. Literally out of my hands, my arms, my eyes, my mind. I got screwed over for no reason, and I'm not really a big fan of that in all honesty. But now of course I'm going back to the situation to fix things and get back what is mine. This is mine. Don't you even try to get in my way. I'm taking what I want from now on. Because I can. Because I deserve it. Because no one else does.

"how am i supposed to know what makes this happen?"

a word to my comrades.

I would like to say that 1984 Day is nothing special. It is no different than any other day of my life. Except now I won't be condemned as a "commie" for saying "comrade", even though the word's origins are that of my own blood.

You're all morons by the way.

Oh and I'm alone, all all all all alone. How bloody unfortunate, right?

Orion is no longer in the sky. I feel as though the glue that has held my bones together has dissipated.

yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever, never.

Backing up the orchestra tonight. Approximately 6 solos. Um.

"and i don't need to satisfy tonight"

1984 Day tomorrow. Exciting? Sure.

"this will all blow over in time"

I've got all these things and people and place floating around in my head. Dreams numbers and words, les mots les mots les mots. But let's not stop there. MES mots. Mes mots mes mots mes mots. Lost at sea lost at sea lost at sea. I can't add up because I don't divide quite right, but maybe that's the question. The mistakes I've been making are putting irrationality between me and my future. But does anything really hold your future? You, your hands, and the ridiculous cal you spew to my mind. You have this immaculately unfortunate power to ruin everything with one glance.

"i must believe there's more above us and below / i must believe stranded with this bitch called hope / it keeps me here when all i wanna do is go / it keeps me here when all i wanna do is disappear"

I want you to cry, I want you to hurt, I want you to know the pain of being the reason for the downfall of the person you love more than anything else in the world. I want to see you smile, hear your laugh, be there to laugh at you when you act stupid and to return the favor.

"if i'm tired i'm tired of tellin you / i'm never tired / i'm always better than you"

So I guess it's in my hands to fix this now, n'est-ce pas? Well guess what, I'm always right. And I always win. And I always come out on top. So suck it up. This IS going to suck, and you aren't always going to like it. Nope. But maybe if I fix you, we can fix us.

"i can't crack / we're on top, we're on top / we bring the bump to the grind, oh ho i don't mind"

Oh. And you. Not the you aforementioned, but a separate you. How about we don't make Danielle feel like crap? And how about you just figure out what's going on in your ever-so-much-more important life before you act like you care about me. Peace out.

"the fallen are the virtuous among us / walk among us / yeah we're all damned"

psa: strength.

I have to be strong because of who depends on it. I have to be the example. I must pull through, and not just barely survive, but thrive and live well.

The differing standards aren't fair, but this is what it has come to. This is who I have been, who I am, and who I will always be. The one that will be there when you need her, even if she wants nothing to do with it. You get your advice and your model. Because on the outward I am even and smooth, with a vague sense of reality, a taste of normality.

I am breaking inside, but thank God for an outer layer. Because I'll confess, I never changed the rules back. They are still bent and broken, a disarray of my life, from the last time you swept through the shattered remnants.

Please be here when I wake.

helping.

My life has become a general conglomeration of a few different aspects: reading either Clockwork Orange or something by Bukowski; listening to Born Ruffians and whatever comes on Pandora, I seem to have the ability to fall in love with all of it; feeling absolutely useless; considering different ways to fix the current situation; writing pieces; stressing over nothing--as in seriously nothing.

If you would just see that I'm right, this would be much easier.

Oh. And while we're at it. I'm really tired of not being important. So if we could work on that, that would be great. Really just peachy. Thanks.

At this very moment, I am at peace. The world around me has sat down, and maybe not shut up, but at least changed their tone to one more to my liking.

Surrounded by half-completed precalc assignments and French that will go unstudied, sitting upon my Tinkerbell sheeted bed, life is just fine. Pandora sings to me, of Ruffians Born that way, a Band of Spintos, Kids from the Cold War, and Wombats singing bits about Joy Division. My shirt depicts a politician who deserves respect for his work in the field of his titlesake, and is soaked with piercing antiseptic because of my precise clumsiness. The guarana from another drained bottle of vitaminwater pierces my veins and keeps me going strong; the bizarre vibrate indicates a new piece of hope via text, piercing straight to my brain.

I'm having two conversations with the same person, just in different places. Why? Because. They are two unrelated conversations.

New Pornographers come on and I want to dance. But I really just want to write.

I want to write because while my heart is light and contented with the state of misery I am subject to at all times as a sort of repentence, the blood dries with the ink. I am free to wash away all with the sweeping shorthand, the Phonenician symbols meaning more than any actions I could ever perform.

Trust me.

This is it.

I'm blogging too much already. Fantastic.

Pandora: Born Ruffians, ofMontreal, Franz Ferdinand, & Myriad.
Eat cookies. They're good for you.

"would you believe me if i said the elephant in the room was YOU NOT BEING IN MY BED? & you'll never know, you'll never see until you're dead."

ychismb.

So I guess I changed some things around. I guess I sucked up everything I had left. I hope I choke on it, just to prove to myself once again that I can't do this.

when will stupid learn fire's gonna burn / think of consequence, then you move when it's your turn

But we must not forget that impatience is a virtue, and my most prominent at that.

Alors, life goes on. With or without your consent, life moves forward for an agility that will make your head spin and your heart stop. There is no permission slip. This ain't no merry-go-round field trip, cowboy.

I feel so restricted out of fear of writing something too profound in front of everybody. Almost every one of the lines above is from a piece. If you would care to peruse the original text, let me know.

But to the point, back to me... I made a decision today that's going to change everything: I gave myself up completely. I lost myself in giving myself to someone else. Someone else's cause, to absolve the charges of someone else.

I'm imparting my own self into those around me who are less than deserving. And in this I am finding my own true identity. I don't know if I like it. But what else can be said?

let's dance to joy division and celebrate the irony / everything is going wrong but we're so happy.

I'd like to think that this is what is going to make me happy. I have things to lose and things to gain. But I guess part of the valor of losing is knowing that you have something to lose.

you could have it so much better if you tried if you tried if you tried if you tried / and you got up on your own, get up on your own.

There's my fatal flaw and most perfect principle: I get up on my own. But I never fall alone.

Oh and in case you were wondering. I was in love with you, but you threw that away. To reiterate my monotony, stupid never learns fire's gonna burn.

artlove.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vrU0MBWrhXLxLto6qEBdHWRyuETIhNaFfyr93NXn2dtdWhm-lENFO8M20B273M0qHxri5LUdPhsuGgOQROUJ_8gE-TPlhq0NOnYI3XaJ2UE6tNK53mZoqAppjuFHxRbz9pL0XunTMtE/s320/Aldhils+Arboretum.gif

This picture quite possibly makes my life.

Also, Woman in Moscow by Kandinsky, Soviet propaganda, and Sergey Larenkov's photos: http://sergey-larenkov.livejournal.com/

Can anyone find a theme? I have invisible ties. Threads that don't exist.

"No matter where we go / We're always touching by underground wires"

Funny how that came back to ofMontreal. Maybe less funny than ridiculously set on a course that I can't alter. Off to write.

writing.

There won't be much here that is vague and stylistically similar and recognizable to my other work. Why? Because I'm legitimately afraid of someone coming in and stealing what I have to say.

Words get stolen every day.

You will not take my lesser density.

So my epic essays and reflections will be kept close to home, close to heart, written in the fashion that seemed to work just fine for my predecessors, and I will continue to prove feasible as a contemporary.

Want to read something in particular? Let me know. Because I'm not afraid of sharing. Trust me. I touch until I get burnt. But once I'm burnt, I don't touch, nor do I enter the room in which I was injured.

how it goes.

So here we have it. This is the moment I suppose I've been waiting for. The culminating point at which I must realize what is before me and what is not, where I must go and where is out of bounds.

I've signed my life away to a state of miserable content, being there for those who don't deserve anything less than hell. What does that make me?

That brings about another important question: Who am I? Seriously. All of this flip-flopping, rule-bending, soul-searching has left me dry, but where is my ethereal high?

I'm making the decisions that are changing everything. I'll be telling it like it is, with a smile through the tears every time. Because what is misery if it does not bring a distant grain of opportunity. Opportunity to be something more. Opportunity to be something bigger. Greater. Less perfect, more our own, less predictable, more beautiful.

In a word, opportunity to be human.

I will be real, I will be amazing, I will kill you with kindness through the blinding mascara, and in the end, I will always be me. Love incarnate, hate impassioned, failure at best, hope when possible.

what happened.

I'm in my bed on a Thursday morning, and there is no consolation for a desperate and heartbroken Danielle. Of course, this is no average Thursday morning. This is the Thursday morning after the Wednesday night that I met my idols, Franz Ferdinand. The group of fine men who inspired me to aspire for something more, to move myself by moving those around me, to do what it is that I want to do, making what I want to do what I need to do. Specifically, Alex's book 'Soundbites' really pushed me off the edge Wednesday night. Conversation as follows:

Danielle: Alex, could you sign this book for me?
Alex: Sure. I hope you really enjoy it.
D: Oh I loved it. I finished it in maybe two days? Much better than the math homework I should have been doing.
A: Oh. Math. Ughhh. I didn't do math well. Nor science. It was history and English, those were the ones.
D: Yeah, English is what I do too.
A: Oh so you're at university?
D: No, I'm only in high school. But that's what I'm going to do.

Here is the first tragic slip of fate. "But that's what I'm going to do". Actually, until that point, I was not planning on writing. In fact, I had almost condemned the possibility to hell, along with being a musician, actress, and the other passions I have that seemed illogical and ill-suited to having a productive life of economic longevity. Conversation continues.

A: Well maybe one day you'll write a book then, yeah?
D: I would love that, absolutely love it.

Second slip of fate. Since when was it a goal and dream of mine to be published? Forever, actually. But I never said that. Never. Commencement.

A: [something] dedication.

Now here we have a problem, because I did not hear the first bit of the comment Alex made about dedication. I still ponder whether he said "That's dedication" or "It takes dedication" or whatever. The point is that his gift of dedication was imparted to me in a sense, and that can never be taken away. Never.

What hit me that Thursday morning was a sense of desperation, a sense of "Oh my God I don't know what I'm going to do with my life." I was so set on going into law and politics for so long that now that I realize that I actually hate those things, I don't quite know how to go about changing everything. So I find a basis. A root. A limb to hold on to instead of falling.

I get out of bed, tearstained cheeks staring back at me in the mirror. Picking up the book, I examine it once more. There is subtle water damage towards the back of the book. From lending out and stowage and transport there are pencil and pen smudges on the front cover. On the inside cover, "To Danielle, Lovely to meet you, Alex Kapranos".

This is my home base. This is where I start. A guideline. A root. Somewhere to dig in and take hold and claim land in the name of Danielle. Based on the prospect of adventure, my pen, a guitar pick and my voice, I will do for someone what was done for me.

This is Danielle. And this is my descent down the rabbithole.