like a fool

I'm confused.
I feel sick to my stomach.
I-
I don't know.
It's weird.
But-
I'm so happy.
Just forget the hospital-
just for a few seconds.
I'm so happy.
It's every single emotion
wrapped into one-
one super-emotion.
One super emotion that-
that controls me.
I always happy.
Always, so happy.
Something lame like,
dazed and confused.
But I'm not.
I'm happy.
And-
I'm sad,
depressed.
Butterflies.
And dizziness.
And I smile like a goof.
Sanity? I don't know-
where are you?
I'm in love.

again, again

Here I sit. I'm residing in the hospital- again. I've come too hate the word, again. Again, and again. No, I don't get to just leave, I have to come back, again. I went into the emergency waiting room at 16:15 on Monday. I didn't get a room until 1:oo on Tuesday. I got an EEG at 10:00 later that day, and was bored as hell for the rest. I had such a horrible headache after I decided to walk around. And I was discharged 8:15 on Wednesday (it was the last day of school). And now it's 18:56 on Thursday. I just got a room. I went back again to the Emergency waiting room at 10:45. It's good I'm a patient person. But... again... When will this stop-? I have no idea. I don't know when I'll be better. Seizures is what it apparently is, but- I'm not so sure any more. They keep asking me so many questions, I don't even think they know what's wrong. Tests beyond belief tomorrow. I'm supposed to be doing homework right now, but I think I'll just take a nap.

completely petrified

It's almost the end of the school year. It's weird for me. I've survived this year- this, fantastic year. I'll start with more recent news than the past; this past week I have apparently been passing out, and I just feel completely out of it. To top it off, this is a shitty keyboard, so I need to actually force that letter/button/key down. My arms feel like they've just been picked off the top shelf, dust blown off. My body feels- old? I guess you could say.

Day 1; And psyciatrists are lame, because apparently all of this madness is on account of lack of sleep- and I sleep, far too much, so his argument is invalid. Day 2; I passed out. A lot. Too many times. I got back to friends saying my name "Hannah. Hannah!" What happened? I start to sway around, and- and my eyes rolled back, and I shut down. And I've also just been zoning out a lot. I did the smart choice and called my Dad to give me a ride home from school. I almost bashed my head open. I have no clue what's happening. The doctor at the clinic wrote a long list of things that need to be done- mostly brain tests at a hospital, and doctor appointments and pediatrician appointments. But if it continues and happens more and more often, it's off to the hospital with me.

-tl;dr-

I'm going to put it out there that I am petrifyed of graduating. I don't want to be in grade 12. I don't know what I'm going to do for the rest of my life. So here I sit, looking at all my friends' graduation and prom photos. I have one more year of free education- so I might as well pick the courses I know will help me for the real world. But what are those courses? What is the real world for me? I don't know what my plan is for life, it seems as tough everybody around me has their own. It's actually- sort of- annoying. I should be planned out too. I feel my heart racing faster- I- I don't know why. Am I afraid of what is to come, or what I will lose-?

short and sweet

I'm sitting in the library, finding a name for myself - random, I guess.

I finally have a plan.

1. Get a macbook.

2. Start recording.

I just want to be able to hear myself perform - hmmm, and post it online.

Banana Pancakes.

cement impressions may last longer, but I know I'd spell my name wrong

Not going to lie, I love the impression I make on people. I really just depends on my mood, or time of day, but I know of people who are scared of me, claim me as my new best friend, entitle me as the weird person that will never shut-up, so on, so forth.
And once you're my friend, oh, who knows! You might just start talking like me. I mean..
Okay, so my new school us all the way across town in a lovely place called Langford. But I think that name is lame, so I call it Langhole.
Now I'm just reading some of my friend's Livejournal posts, and we had hung out on the weekend, and went to Langhole. Guess what they wrote?

"Yeah, I went to Langhole this weekend. Pretty lame."

Oh, they've learned <3

twloha

To Write Love On Her Arms

Every day, I thank myself for staying alive, and knowing that people out there care about those who are depressed and are contemplating suicide.
I always celebrate this day ♥

self-update

It's been well over 6 months since I've been on here, so I've decided to introduce myself again.

Sixteen-year-old female. Grade 11, grad '11. Brown hair, blue-orange-grey-gold-green eyes. Bass clarinet, trombone, tenor sax, acoustic guitar. Loves The Blues Brothers. Dancing and singing in the rain. Daily improvisation. Currently obsessed with: Jazz, Blues, Soul

I'm a Musical nerd.

I guess a lot has stayed the same...