The Stories

I'm trying to write a story right now. I have the idea in my mind, I just want to make sure I have it planned well before I begin writing it.

I want to be a good writer. No, I want to be a great writer. I want to write a book that will inspire someone. I've always wanted to do good for the world, and I think this is the best possible way for me to do that. I don't know when I'll write that book,  but I'm making a promise to myself that I will.

For now, I want to write a story that is fun, expresses me, and allows me to use a lot of creativity. Being a seventeen-year-old girl, I don't feel I am mature enough, or have the wisdom to write a great thought-provoking novel. With this in mind, I came up with my current story idea.

I call it: The Actor, The Rock Star, and The Best Friend.

I think I can work on that title, but I think it makes a good title for my story.

It's about a teen girl fresh out of high school who lives more in her little dream world than reality. She's completely convinced her true love is either a very famous actor or an up-and-coming popular young rock star. To see which is her soul mate, she decides to go on a journey to find each guy and make them fall desperately in love with her. Tagging along with her is her sensible and sweet guy best friend  who only goes to make sure she will be safe. Through it all, she finds her true self in the real world, and finds that love is closer and more real than she thinks.

So obviously she falls in love with her best friend. It's a simple love story, but with my own twist on things. In actuality, it's a journey of finding her true identity, with a love story added in to make things interesting. The girl travels across the country, then to England to find the rock star then the actor. A lot of the story will be about who she meets, what influences her and how she has influenced others.

I'm most afraid I won't finish it. I really hope I do, and if I edit and rewrite enough to make it almost perfect, I might just publish it. For now, it's still an idea. I hope it will become more though. No, it will become more, and I will love it and make sure people will be able to enjoy it just as much as I do. I need to think positive more often.

The Craving

I'm what you'd call a good kid.

I get good grades. All As and Bs, the worst I've gotten was a B-. It was in Ancient History, and I'd missed only one assignment.

I've never been to a party in my life. You know, the ones that have alcohol and consist mainly of people my age. I don't count fundraisers as parties, neither the ones my parents have hosted at my house where all our family friends come together and talk. There's usually about only one case of beer. 

I have never drank more than the small sip I have gotten by my parents at the christmas party.

Drugs have never been a consistency in my life. Besides antidepressants, of course.

I never stay out late, if there is a time that I am out with friends. 

If there are any arguments between my parents and I, it is usually about my room.

I've never had a boyfriend, so my parents don't have to worry about that.

Overall, I am the kid everyone wants their kid to be friends with. 

Although, I have been a normal teenager once in my life. And as much as I preach against doing anything harmful to your body like hallucinogens, depressants, etc., that one time was one of the happiest moments in my life. There was a dizzying, bubbling feeling inside of me, I wasn't afraid, I wasn't holding back, I was laughing at the stupidest things, and nothing mattered whatsoever. I felt good, and happy, even though afterwards I realized how idiotic I must have seemed. I've never forgotten that time, just my friend and I, with her other friend and boyfriend.  And more than anything, despite being in one of the best schools in the state, despite how proud I make my parents, I want to do it again. I keep craving that moment of bliss when I first felt it within me, coursing through my veins to the tip of my fingers. I crave the dizziness I felt, and the light feeling in my head. I crave how everything I saw and heard made me want to giggle. Most of all, I crave the ignorance of reality. I want it badly.

Sometimes I want to tell my parents that I've done a drug. I like being honest with them, but then again I don't want to let them down. There's also the fear of them getting very angry. Maybe when I'm much older I'll tell them. For now, I think I should keep it to myself, especially since my friend and I are going to do it again.

We want to, my friend and I. No matter how ashamed I felt after that time, I knew I had to do it again. I hope I don't get addicted, I just want to escape once in awhile.

We might be doing it soon. It depends on when my friend's other friend is able to. With the amount of stress school is putting on me, right now I need it more than anything.

Cravings are a bitch. 

The Collection

When I was a child, I always wanted a hobby, particularly to have a collection. I'd always try one, but always failed after the first or second piece collected. I tried rocks, shells, leaves, flowers, you name it. Probably the most successful collection was about five or six snowglobes collected as souvenirs on trips. But because of the lack of traveling in my family, it didn't get too far. I did have a large collection of ceramic mermaids, but it didn't count since my mother found most of them, or already had them. 

What frustrated me most though was that I didn't have something I was passionate about, something that I loved doing and was a habit in my life. I felt all my friends had one, Coco with her Play Mobiles and My Little Ponies, Zoe with her gigantic collection of music merchandise, Skyler with her plethora of horses. I had Pokemon cards, Beanie Babies, Barbies, but not something I loved and would always keep loving. I felt that a collection of something would be that love. And so I kept trying, and indeed I would always fail, left with a few of each attempted collection.

I placed all my little artifacts around my room, hoping someday maybe a spark within me would reignite a passion to finish that collection. But as the years went on, and more things were piled on shelves and desks, I started to forget my real reason for buying these little things. One day, as I was rearranging the glass figures, trophies and russian dolls, I realized, I had been building up a large collection all along. All these little treasures, each a small part of my childhood, had become a whole a collection of my own. I was ecstatic to say the least. I had snowglobes, small angels, silver figurines, decorated egg shells, Day of the Dead skeleton displays, piggy banks, mini shrines, painted pottery pieces, porcelain mermaids, ceramic lucky cats, small shot glasses, little fairy perfume bottles, Disney toy cars and figurines, stuffed animals, sparkly matchboxes, antique tarot cards, picture frames, jelly jars, miniature clocks, and more.   

Looking at it all brought back the memory of the golden times when I was young, a child looking for myself in a world I considered my own. I had finally found a collection, but one that I was not looking for. It was a collection of me, of who I am and who I was, each a piece of my identity. There was the snowglobe of the Great Wall of China when I went with my father to adopt my baby sister from China. And next to that, an ostrich egg that opens up and reveals a small angel which I found unexpectedly in an antique sale . Above that is the paper mache skeleton smiling under a sombrero, a figurine I purchased on a trip in Mexico. Over there is the softball trophy I won when I was picked as a player in the All Stars team. So many memories all placed next together, like a timeline of my life. When I finally understood my collection, I couldn't be happier. 

I cannot look for pieces to add to my collection. The pieces find me. Each one comes as a mark to remember a special event that took place. It is a lifelong collection, and it will never end until I am no longer living. 

To this day the collection still sits in my room. It is a part of me, my childhood, and I will never part with it.

New Beginnings

Sometimes it's just too humiliating to speak freely in public, so I decided to express myself openly and honestly on the internet instead. Don't worry, I can see the irony in that statement.

If anyone actually reads this, hello. My name is Olivia, and I am your average shy introverted introvert teenager. I made this blog mainly to vent privately (sort of) and not near the eyes of my peers, which I previously did in myspace bulletins. Frankly, it was getting embarrassing, and I had to bitch somewhere. So here I am, finally saying what I want to say. It's a good feeling, and finally I'll be able to get into the nitty gritty details that have been eating away inside me, just waiting to get out and be heard. 

I live in the Pacific Northwest, a slightly depressing place that consists of a lot of rain and hippies. The town I live in is unique, it being an extremely liberal community surrounded by white supremacists (allegedly, but it's pretty obvious).  Truthfully, it's probably a nice place to grow up in, but a complete shit hole to live in your entire life. In one year I'll finally be able to get out and live for once in my life. Maybe then I'll actually experience a social life, maybe even develop a relationship with some guy who might possibly stoop to my level. You can see I have great admiration of myself (FYI: I ooze of sarcasm). But when that day comes, I might as well just tell the world wide web my deepest darkest secrets. What could possibly go wrong?

Overall, this blog allows me to just write, which is my ultimate passion in life. I may not be the greatest writer (I could definitely improve with my vocabulary) but I love doing it, so a lack of skill shouldn't stop me. I am, I guess you could say, writing to myself, like a diary, but one that can be publicly read. If anyone even reads this, I'll be quite surprised. Actually I don't really want anyone reading this, but if you like my personal blog, I'll take it as a compliment, and pray to God I don't know you in real life. But that is very unlikely, since in reality I am slightly invisible. No, it's kind of true. If you ever met me, I'd probably seem like the dullest person on the planet. I don't mind though, I've dealt with a lack of social skills my entire life. I'm beginning to realize it's who I am, and if I can't change that, then it's fine, since I should like myself for who I am. But there is a lot of shit about me that I'd love to see go away, trust me.

All right, I am "ganz" tired, so I'm going to doze off while listening to the new Kaiser Chiefs album.  I have a few ideas planned of what I want to talk about tomorrow. 

Happy daylight savings time.