Post by Gia Alpert on May 25, 2009 23:30:15 GMT -5
WONDERFUL
Gia Alpert[/center][/size]
Wonderful -- Everclear
Isn't life wonderful?
That's the first line of that song, a song that seems to fit my life so perfectly in most respects, and it couldn't be more wrong. Unless, of course, the question is sarcastic, in which case, it is entirely right.
There I go, again, over thinking. Note to self: stop that!
I close my eyes when I get too sad
I think thoughts that I know are bad
Close my eyes and I count to ten
Hope its over when I open them
Bad thoughts. To be honest, there's a lot of those. My parents, both real and adoptive, Nell, Henry. Henry is always lurking the back of my mind. It makes me sick thinking of him, of what I did. It was an accident, I think. Well, I tell myself that but...really, I was happy. I was so fucking happy when he died. I mean, it scared me, what I did scared me beyond belief, but he deserved to die and his death made me happy. It was pure, sweet, blissful, wonderful release.
When I think of that day, counting to ten works...sometimes. Sometimes, the counting and deep breathing works. Those times it doesn't work, I have to find some place to be alone so people won't see me hyperventalating and crying. It's embarrassing. As if being the new kid at some big time private school isn't bad enough, I don't need people knowing all my dirty little secrets. I don't need my personal life blasted all over this Gossip Girl thing.
I want the things that I had before
Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door
I wish I could count to ten
Make everything be wonderful again
I do want the things I had before, so badly. Not that I can tell anyone that, and not that it matters what I want because it's impossible to go back. My family hates me. No, that's not the right word. No, they're terrified of me. I don't even have a family anymore! My real parents didn't want me, and I scared away my adoptive parents. Nice work, Gia old girl. If only I had the power to turn back time instead of freezing it, that would help me so much.
Hope my mom and I hope my dad
Will figure out why they get so mad
Hear them scream, I hear them fight
They say bad words that make me wanna cry
Part of the song that sorta fits me.
Mom and Dad did fight a lot after the Henry incident. Well, not directly after it. It was after I confessed that I was the reason Henry died that the fighting started. They blamed each other for me, both claiming that they didn't want me and that it was the other that did, that it was all the others fault, that I was a freak. The things they said, about each other and about me, it didn't make me want to cry -- it made me cry.
I cried so much in the months before I moved from San-Fran to NYC. I remember crying to my lawyer when I filed for emancipation, when I explained to him why I had to have it done and legal and out of the way, with as little details as possible. It was simple enough, I just strung together a bunch of lies and Mom and Dad were happy to go along with them, since it meant getting rid of me.
Close my eyes when I go to bed
And I dream of angels who make me smile
I feel better when I hear them say
Everything will be wonderful someday
There are no angels, just an angel. The angel who makes me smile...
...Um, more on him later. That might be a little too personal, even for a journal. Not because of anything dirty or anything like that, but because I'm not sure what he is. For all I know, he really could be an angel. And would that be so strange? After all, I'm a witch and, according to popular culture, witches aren't real and yet, here I am.
Note to self: Stop rambling and, again, stop over-thinking!
Promises mean everything when youre little
And the worlds so big
I just dont understand how
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
Tell me everything is wonderful now
Please dont tell me everything is wonderful now
Simple rule of life: Don't make promises you can't keep. Doing that, just makes you look stupid and selfish and, more often than not, like a complete and total douchebag. Being the kind of person that doesn't keep their promises, makes you black-hearted. On the bright side, karmically speaking, those people will get what they deserve. Ah, karma, the universal justice system that never fails.
Anyway, what confuses me more than anything is me. We all claim that only we truly know ourselves, but I truly don't understand myself. I don't understand how I can go out everyday and smile, like nothing is wrong, and tell people that I'm fine, that every is just wonderful. Putting on this show for the benefit of total strangers, and for the reassurance that my mind won't implode unto itself, it's hard, it's exhausting, and it's messy.
There's always those nagging questions: what is someone finds out the truth? What if someone finds out that not only am I an adoption case but that my "rich parents" that sent me to the Academy basically disowned me? What if everyone finds out that I live on my own, supporting myself, barely making rent by working -- a concept that seems to be unheard of with most trustfund babies -- as a research assistant at the public library?
I go to school and I run and play
I tell the kids that its all okay
I laugh aloud so my friends wont know
When the bell rings I just dont wanna go home
There's no running or playing at the Academy, unless you count the kind of playing that goes on in the legendary Boiler Room. And I don't have any friends, not yet anyway, but the smiling and laughing aloud thing? Yeah, that's me all over. I do put up that brave-front-thing because I don't want to go home. I don't want to go back to my dinky little apartment and be all alone. Diego doesn't really count, as he's the kind of company that sheds everywhere and doesn't talk.
Okay, I'll admit, being alone isn’t as bad as everyone seems to think it is. Sure, I worry, probably like everyone else in the world, that I'll die alone. But I'm alive right now and while I hate being on my own all the time, I still really enjoy it. At least when I'm alone I have enough peace to study! There is so much information in the world, so many subjects, and I want to learn as much as I can about all of them!
And that takes quiet. Whether at home or at the library, where quiet is a sanctimonious rule never to be broken, quiet is a precious thing to me. And it's so hard to find! Sometimes, when I'm at work, just for the hell of it, I'll pretend to be deaf so I won’t be bothered with stupid questions. After all, I can't freeze people every time they get on my nerves. That's a fast way to exhaust myself, and then my powers probably won't work when I need them.
My boss, Marjory, has scolded me many times. She'd say that pretending to be handicapped is “a disrespectful and horrible thing to do”. But I know she finds it amusing. Marjory, robust woman that she is, can’t stay quiet for very long. She's always talking loudly, telling stories, and her laugh is more like a deep howl. If I'm brutally honest with myself, Marjory is really my only friend. The older woman often calls me at night to chit-chat, to lecture me about going to college, to follow my dreams, to invite me to go to the movies, to eat lunch with her, and she's even tried to set me up on dates!
Getting to the point: Yes, Marjory is a good friend, but just how much longer can I last before dropping her down the preverbal mineshaft?
Go to my room and I close my eyes
I make believe that I have a new life
I dont believe you when you say
Everything will be wonderful someday
Okay, this is getting a little annoying. As much as I love this song -- for Gaia's sake, I'm naming my journal after it! -- this entry is getting a bit long so I'll summarize the rest.
I don't want to hear people tell me, especially people that don't know me, that I'll understand someday why things happened to me the way they happened. I don't think I'll ever understand or want to understand why both sets of my parents didn't want me. I'll never understand what's happening to me, why I'm a witch, what it all means. I'd have to find my real parents to understand that, and I'm not sure I want to do that.
More than anything, I just want my life to go back to the way it was. I want things to be just like they used to be, with loving parents, a normal school, with normal people, and just be normal. No drama, no complications, no worrying that I'm going to freeze something randomly and getting caught. Just...normal!
Some days I hate everything
I hate everything
Everyone and everything
Please dont tell me everything is wonderful now...
Living with the powers I have, never knowing if tomorrow will be the day I final explode and destroy everything in one massive quake, is bittersweet. I hope I don't lose control but, at the same time, it would be so wonderful to watch all the insignificant nobodies get what they deserve: going back into the earth that bore them.
~Gia