Well beyond my years.

I find it a little annoying, actually.

It is SO hard to relate to kids these days. I mean, sure, I'm still only a teenager. But I feel like I completely skipped that chapter in life. It's almost as if I morphed from a child, straight into a young adult, because I can't remember anything in between.

In High School, they say you discover finally who you are.
But, I already know who I am. And I clearly don't fit in with anyone.

Fact is: I'm not a people person.
There are very few people I genuinely like. Hell, I can even count them on my fingers.
I've always thought life was one big play that God set out of us. Our journey is to discover ourselves, and play the perfect part. Find a place where you belong.
That is where the 'acting' part comes in. I pretend to like a lot of people, when really, I can't stand them.
I don't say I don't like them. I show no animosity. But on the inside, I secretly have no interest in them.
I threw away my script years ago.

That's not to say I'm a mean person. Really, I'm not. I just find that many people aren't really themselves. And I hate that.

Conformity is disaster.
Why bother being someone you aren't? Why waste your time? You only live once, and if we are in fact incarnations, we wouldn't know anyway.
Life is so short. I know that's a clichéd saying, but it is so true.
I look at other kids, trying so hard to be like one another. No wonder life is so dull these days.

I'm not backing down.
I'm opinionated. So be it. I always fight for what I believe in: whether it be music, beliefs, or something that needs defending. My resistance against conformity never sways. You can count on that.

Every single day, I work on myself.
I know I can be too loud or over-bearing at times, so I try to tone myself down. Not for other people. For me. I don't want to be regarded as a loud mouth bitch, but I'm sure many people think I am.

I hate close-minded people.
Whenever somebody is rude about religious beliefs, homosexuality, or a certain ethnicity, I always call them out on it.
Seriously. Ask my friends. Whether it be a stranger, or my BFF, I always yell at them "DON'T USE GAY AS A SYNONYM FOR STUPID." A very cool dude told me that once, and it always stuck.

Ignorance is bliss.
One of my favorite sayings. I'd rather be completely in the dark about something hurtful, even if it's just pushing the pain off to a later date. My life is painful enough as it is..

"A soul of music"
That's actually the title of my blog.
I know many people say that 'music is their life,' but I am one of the few who mean it.
I can't even imagine my life without it. I don't want to. It's the first thing I think about when I wake up, and my very last thought before I sleep.
I never take my headphones out. It could be regarded as antisocial behavior, but I really couldn't care less.
I play guitar. I'm not very good, but I'm in lessons, and I practice a lot. I want to learn for myself; not for anyone else.
Music makes the pain go away, even if the relief is only temporary. I'd be lost without it.

Well, I guess that was just a bigger look at who I am. But, really, you'd have to get to know me before you judged.

Things about Lauren.

Things about me.
My goal is 25 facts.
Will I fall beneath, or exceed my desired amount?
Let's see!

1.I am terrified of the future.
2.I've wanted to be an Archeologist since I can remember, but I can't follow my dreams. Geology it is!
3.The thought of rejection makes me sick.
4.I always fall for people that will never want me back. It's a curse.
5.I'm listening to the Clash right now.
6.The Beatles changed my life.
7.I only see my dad once a year. It sucks.
8.I love makeup that costs more than my clothes.
9.I'm not afraid to be myself, in any situation.
10.I love Dexter Morgan.
11.Jimmy Page is my idol.
12.I want to live somewhere- anywhere besides Newfoundland.
13.I hate people who lack originality.
14.I despise someone I should adore.
15.I hate the sound of my own voice.
16.I sometimes wish I was someone else.
17.I love Harry Potter more than you'll ever be able to comprehend.
18.I blame myself for everything.
19.I am hated by someone for my sister's actions. It hurts.
20.I feel brave writing that previous fact.
21.I can't sleep. I fear I have insomnia, or something similar.
22.I'm pretty sure no one has read my blog, besides a few people who have told me they have.
22.I am inching my way towards insanity. I'm on the boat that takes me there, but I still have to cross to the other side.
23.I love the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
24.I want to be Oscar Wilde's best friend.
25.I want to be forever young.
26.Guitar is soothing. It makes me forget who I am.
27.I love to dance. I'm not too great, but it still makes me happy.
28.I hate people who don't try.
29.I wish I was good at math.
30.I love to write.
31.Alan Rickman's voice makes me want to rape something. Lol.
32.My Mom is crazy.
33.I will never get married. I'm making that decision right now.
34.I'm not having kids either.
35.I hate long car rides.
36.I still sleep with bunnies. Fanny and Freddie. Yes, I'm in High School and I love my bunnies. Sue me.
37.Speaking of 'Sue'..... I love Glee.
38.I love listening to Soundgarden while I'm in the shower.
39.The Verve makes me happy.
40.I went to the Exorcism tonight. It was creepy.
41.I have a cherry red Ibanez. I never put it down.

..I talk a lot.

Dreams.

I wrote this last night when I got home from Orlando.
It's a little depressing, and I don't know what to classify it as.
Poem? Narrative? Random bit of nonsense? You decide.

My feet drag me through the chill airport. I clutch my purse as if it's a safety harness, and pray a miracle will happen.

There he will stand, in his usual attire of cargo shorts and running shoes.
His warm embrace will entrap me, and the pain will ebb away.
My father will take me to safety.
Take me from the insanity that has nothing- but ultimately- everything to do with my life.

No longer will I be stranded on the tip of an eggshell, that's just waiting to crack.
No longer will I have to force myself to remember that in the real world, something called 'consistency' really does exist.

I imagine a place of stability, love, and comfort.
Not my hollow life of petty joys and unrelenting downfalls, disappointments.

But, she will be happy. Euphoric, even.
No longer will I have to witness her life crumble to bits every five minutes.
She will find what she is looking for. Something only she can see.

My Mother.

I will wait patiently for the day where my childhood will really start.
Of course I was a child. At some point or another, we all were.
But, I can't recall a single time where I felt pure elation.
No dreading the future, no worrying about situations that are out of my control.
No fearing the inevitable.

But, all of that is too much to ask.
What have I done to deserve the gift of happiness?
Nothing, really.

Now, here I sit in the stuffy car.
Waiting for them to return.
Waiting for chaos to make his reappearance.

Right now, the other side is so far away.
And, honestly, I'm too fatigued to make the effort.

My Mother's happiness is like a whisk of smoke.
Barely substantial.
But always visible, attainable.
And, just as it's in your grasp, it fades into nothing.

So, there you are. Left to start from scratch.
Finding the perfect candle, relighting it, and praying that your efforts will prevail.
They never do.

Why is it that I can never be happy, knowing she is not?
Her fury becomes my fury.
Her distrust becomes my own.
I hate it.

Yet, I persevere. Begging for this inexplicable connection to break.

Am I asking too much? To live my own life?
The cost seems to increase with each day that passes.