Post by JORDAN RYLEE SLATER on Jan 27, 2015 12:09:25 GMT -5
MY TROUBLED HEAD WHEN YOU'RE AWAY, WHEN I'M MISSING YOU TO DEATH
25 | HETERO | ENGAGED | STYLIST | LOCAL | LAUREN CONRAD
Jordan R. Slater,
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page one: there is a self portrait drawn in crayon. the artwork is that of a second grader. the details are basic. a round face with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth she has long, curly yellow hair and written underneath it is a sloppy introduction to the start of her diary. Hello! My name is Jordan Rylee Slater. I am seven years old and I live in a pretty house with my mom and older sister. My mom says that I should start writing things down because the teachers at my school complain about me a lot. They say I'm bad... but it's not my fault some kids are stupid. Anyway, I think this could be fun so I'm going to try it out. DO NOT TOUCH OR ELSE! page two: a frantically written blurb during the middle of fifth grade. there's wavy dots on the page, suggesting that she might have been crying while writing it. there are plenty more of those rippling dots scattered throughout this beaten up diary. Dear Diary, I hate school. I wish I didn't have to go. I don't like it there because the kids are mean and annoying. They're all so... I don't know. Sometimes I see them at the plays and talent shows with both of their parents there and it makes me sad because everyone is this town has two parents while I only have one. A lot of kids ask me about it. They ask me where my daddy is or why he isn't here. I asked my mom about him once and she never said anything. Just told me that he wasn't someone I wanted in my life anyway. Boys are bad. They are annoying and they have cooties. I don't like them and I wish they would stop picking on me all the time. I want to grow up and be strong like my mom. page three: the handwriting has improved. the scribbled out printing has turned into carefully written cursive. the font itself is decorative and girly, but the context itself reflects the growing bitterness inside a young girl starting up her eighth grade year. Dear Diary, I miss elementary school. It was a hell of a lot easier than this. All everyone ever seems to care about anymore is getting into a relationship and blah blah. Honestly, I don't see the point in all of it. Boys still suck. They're obnoxious and dirty. Gross really. Then again, the girls aren't much better either. It's all about the clothes you wear or how pretty your hair looks every day. School has turned into some kind of savage popularity contest and if you don't have the looks or the money, you automatically become subjected to bullying. No one really bothers me because I don't take and of that. People know me because I'm kind of hard to miss I guess. Loud personality and all, but they don't bother me anymore. So I think I'm going to make it my mission to defend the bullied. Seems like a good goal to set, right? I mean, I'm already in with the drama kids so that's something. Which, by the way, is pretty cool. I think I like acting now. page four: the words on the page are now a combination of cursive and printing. some letters connect to one another while others do not. It's a faster way of writing but she still has that perfectionist touch to it where everything is neatly spaced and written even though nothing has become more positive in her writing. Dear Diary, I'm more than a little disappointed. Everyone gets so excited and nervous to make that big step over to the high school and it's just... not what I expected. It's still school. There are still bland walls with bland teachers and bland classes. The only difference is that there are more people and the upperclassmen think they have some kind of power over the freshmen and sophomores. The couples are more obnoxious here too. Kissing in the hallways and all that bullshit. Popularity is extremely important again, but not to me. I'm more interested in the drama program here. It's gonna be so amazing. I'm already talking to the director of the upcoming play. Have an acting class and everything. Speaking of which... I guess the majority of my subjects aren't too bad. The only thing I hate is having classes with the group of girls who have hated me since... what? Elementary school? Talk about grudge holders, huh? Don't worry though, they won't say anything because they all know I'm not the kind of girl who's going to be walked over. I'll punch someone if I have to. My mom will have to deal with it if she gets a call from the principal. page five: this page is dated during the middle of her sophomore year. just another page complaining about how much she loathes love and the whole idea of it. Dear Diary, I really do not understand all of this hugging and kissing in the hallways. Whenever I see a couple stop to make out in front of everyone I seriously just want to throw a textbook at them or something. Have some decency, okay? No one wants to see you macking out with your girlfriend/boyfriend. It's gross and obnoxious. Plus, it's not love anyway. Love doesn't exist. It's just an idea that songs, stories, and movies brainwash people into believing. I'm not that stupid. None of these guys want to make and of these girls their "forever and always". It's complete bullshit and I don't even feel bad for the girls who fall for it. If you're going to be that stupid to fall for their pretty little whispers in your ear, then that's your own fault. I know better. In the end, you really don't have anyone but yourself to rely on. People are selfish cowards and I don't believe that "true love" exists. Maybe that has something to do with the fact that I've grown up with a single mother who refuses to talk about my father, but whatever. I'm not upset about it. I'll be happier on my own. page six: finally it's senior year and things are looking up a little for this girl. she is happier now that the end is near and soon she will be able to make it out of this town to start her own life. she is also making friends with someone she hasn't spoken to since elementary school. she is finally happy for once. Dear Diary, So usually I use this book to rant... but this time I have something kind of nice to say? It's finally my last year of high school and I can't wait to get out of here... but this year doesn't look like it's going to be so bad. I have all the classes I want and I'm enjoying my new drama class. Even if I am paired with Jacob Anderson, aka someone who is hopeless at acting. He seems intrigued with the way I do things and apparently he's on the rocks with his girlfriend now or something. Oops. Not my fault. Not like I'm trying to steal her man or anything because it's a known fact around the school that I'm the bitch from hell who no one will ever have a chance with. To be honest, I'm pretty awful with him too, but he keeps talking to me anyway. It's weird... but I think I like him. Jake isn't half-bad for an annoying jock. page seven: the tear drops have returned and the penmanship isn't so great. salty tear drops are splashed all over this particular page that was written a few months after the one on page six. you can tell by the messy writing that she is no longer herself. the confidence is gone. fear has taken its place. Dear Diary, I never want to leave my bed again. I'm never going to school again... never. I hate everyone there. I hate everyone in general. How could... how could anyone ever pin a girl up against a wall like that? How could they stand there laughing while she cries and begs them to stop? I don't... get it. And I'm so uncomfortable with everything now. I cry all the time and I hate it. I hate when people look at me or try to tell me it will be okay because how will it? They touched me... ripped my clothes off of my body and laughed about it. I had to go to the hospital because one of them pushed me a little too hard and I smacked my head back against the tile in the locker room. Keeping me in the hospital was pretty difficult in and of itself because... now I can't stand people touching me apparently. I hate it. I don't want anyone to come near me anymore. It's like I can't breathe whenever someone gets too close. Even my mom or sister. It's easier with them I guess... but I can't even begin to think about what it's going to be like when I go back to school. Because I have to go back. I'm going to graduate with my class and I'm going to take the lead in the upcoming play. Just... everyone needs to stay the fuck away from me or I'll freak the fuck out. page eight: it's prom season now and she is wary of it. but she has a date. she wasn't going to go but someone is making her go and it's clear she is curious about it. skeptical still, but also very curious. Dear Diary, So... this is weird. Not too sure what I'm supposed to make of Jacob asking me to prom and what's even more confusing is that I actually said yes. Why on Earth would I ever want to go to some dance where there's going to be a whole lot of drunk, ridiculously horny teenagers who just want to get to the after parties? I mean... I guess it's alright because I am going with Jake and for whatever reason he's one of the exceptions to my new phobia. I'll be alright with him I think, but this still feels like a terribly bad idea but... I think I want to do it? I mean, I trust him and maybe he's trying to pull me out of this anti-social bubble that I made up for myself after what happened. Could be a good thing for me... and besides, who could say no to someone who went all out with their plan to ask you? You should have seen the jealousy radiating off the cheer team. My best friend is pretty hot. ;D page nine: more tears. lots of them actually. the words on the page are scribbled all over the place and hardly make any sense at all. distress and heartbreak make thinking for her hard to do. but she needs to write it down. she needs to let it out. Dear Diary, I thought Jacob moving away to New York would be alright. I was upset at first, sure, because he promised me all these things about how he wanted to travel the world with me. Of course I fucking believed him because I'm no better than the idiot girls I was always complaining about in high school. Love is fucking bullshit. I should have stuck to that way of thinking because he fucking... cheated on me. Or whatever the fuck. He left for college and just kind of stopped talking to me. Probably forgot I even existed until he started fucking some chick on campus. Then he thought it would be a good idea. Would have been smarter if he just stopped talking to me because why does it matter, right? He's in New York and I'm stuck here in Maine with these assholes. Maybe I should just leave. I want to because FUCK. I hate him. I hate everyone. I can't believe I let myself believe that maybe love could actually be real. Hope he's happy with himself now. page ten: the writing suggests she is angry but this time it is directed at herself. it's summer time now and jacob is back. all year she has been telling herself she hates him and doesn't want to see his face again, but she is weak. he makes her weak. Dear Diary, Yeah, I'm an idiot. Jake cheated on me and I should be telling him to kiss my ass but... It's so difficult to say no to him when he promises that this time it's different and tells me all these things about how he missed me and it won't happen again. We'll make it through this time. He won't forget about me and everything will be alright because he loves me. All I need to do is give him one more change... which I did. I'm so fucking stupid but yeah, I did. We're going the whole nine yards with this summer romance thing. Not even going to lie. I enjoy it. Really, I do, because I love him. The bastard stole my heart and now he won't give it back. So I'm stuck. Fuck love. I wish it didn't exist. page twelve: it has been a few years since she's written. a lot of breaking up and getting back together with jacob has happened since then but now it's really done. they are really over with because he crosses her final line. she is broken now. the words on this particular page are written while she sits on the first plane heading out of brunswick. Dear Diary, I'm done. I'm so fucking done. Just... why did I let that asshole hurt me so bad? On and off, back and forth. I let him leave me and sleep with me on the side whenever he decided he missed me. I stopped being his girlfriend a long time ago but he still used me as that girl he could always go back to because he knew I wouldn't leave. I couldn't because I loved him. It's stupid that I ever trusted him because he is the most disgusting, cowardly person I know. Why, out of all people, did it have to be him that I trusted after those guys tried to rape me in school? Why did he have to ask me to prom or be the first and only person I ever had sex with? And last but certainly not least... why did I ever think being engaged to him would be a good idea? Because I thought that maybe he decided that he was done messing around and figured out that he wanted to be with me finally. I mean, he hadn't asked anyone else to be his wife, did he? No. So I thought that maybe... he finally came around and wanted to stop leaving me. And I was so excited because everything was planned. My dress. Ugh. I helped design it myself and it was just so beautiful... and the ring. Everything I could have ever wanted for my fairytale wedding was right there. Just another week and it would be happening... and then it all went to hell because he couldn't. Jake broke up with me a week before our wedding. Don't think I've ever cried so much or hurt so bad in my life. Oh well. I'm done now. He can have his fucking ring and give it to someone else because I'm finally leaving. Just packing up my bags to start a business and life of my own. Hopefully this gaping hole in my chest will stop hurting so much though, because who knows what I'll be like while dealing with my phobia of touch and a broken heart. Beware, Los Angeles because I don't think you can handle this particular case of fucked up. |
ALYSSA| EASTERN | SEVENTEEN | TOO MANY
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