Stupid days.

Do you ever get those moments when you want to extend your arm as away from your body as much as you can, only to bring sheer force into slamming your palm against your head as hard as you can? You probably haven't, you're probably not as insane as me.
What about those moments when you want to scream at the top of your voice, but you know you can't, because your mum will rush in and start questioning everything about anything. Which often make you end up at a point where you want to scream at her instead?
Or, those moments when you want to grab something, and throw it as hard as you can at something else? Say, your best clay sculpture at a brick wall? Or onto concrete?
How about, when those moments happen near something solid and hard? Say like, a computer desk. Something stresses you out so much, that you punch the desk as hard as possible. Or knee it from underneath, head bang it, elbow it, or do something else that hopefully hurts you and not leave damages to the desk?
Today, is one of those effing days.

Oh gawsh, yesterday's belated

I believe I missed my scheduled blog of yesterday, so I shall write an early Friday morning one to make up for it. Today, I talk about yesterday - for now. I'm most likely going to blab Friday secrets by accident.
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So, yesterday, I had a drivers lesson where he practically only allowed me to steer. Who knew steering could be pretty difficult? And they let you get drivers licenses just by passing a written test. What a crazy world we live in. Other things I did yesterday? Nothing really. A mathematics tutor came by too, but it's not like I needed it. I'm doing well in maths, so I didn't see the point.
Nope, no point intended.
So now, I'm bored, and schools soon to begin. Well; I gotta start departing for school soon.
Au revior!

School is practice for the future

Delilah Make Believe - nearly typed my own name - is having this tendency to be really smiley. I can't help it. I'm eating my most beloved flavoured ice cream and people I'm talking to at the moment are making me so happy =D! I've come to the part where I scrap the melted ice cream to the bottom p art of my bowl to allow my spoon to drink it like cold soup - yummy cold soup.
Drivers lesson tomorrow and I'm scared. I've never been behind a wheel that controls mass injury before. Gah! I hope he doesn't make me reverse. Even my friend said that'd be scary!
AHH!
But I also can't wait. =]
Practice makes perfect!
(Nobody's perfect, so why bother practicing?)
There's more to it, but I'm lazy.

Have You____ Him yet?

You really don't know who means the world to you until they're gone. My best friend's moved even futherer away from me. And my reaction to this - curl up into a little ball and cry it away. But obviously, that never works. And there's always someone concerned about you. My boyfriend cared a lot; but I've been hurt my too many guys that I'm finding myself too scared to ever open myself up to a lover ever again. I told him this, he says he understands. But I don't know. I feel bad. He probably tells me everything he remembers, when I just sit there, dull faced. I think he can see this, in me. The sudden change. He's probably worring. And I don't want him to worry. But I just can't help it.
I don't know. I feel lonely. I miss my "BFF" He knows everything about me; or as much as he should know. He knows what my mother doesn't, but other than him, mother knows me the most.
Those are the only two people I can see myself giving me away too. And I wish I could do this towards my boyfriend... but it's so scary.
I've been abused, used, cheated on, cheated against, etc. I'm not what you'd call perfect. But to me, I am perfect. I'm perfect at being me. And no one else can be me.
And my friend's so curious about me doing anything with my boyfriend. I feel as if my privacy is deprived.
I don't know... kinda confusing.
Jeez, this blog's sounding emotional already.

Modelling; it's now conterversial

I considered being a model at one stage. I thought the attention and glamor would be worth it. Of course, I wouldn't go on the bizarre diets you hear about. I just thought, because I'm naturally skinny, that I should make the most of it. Instead of just, think of myself as a bag of bones.
Recently, I was highering my self-confidence about my lack of flesh, until some jerk asks me straight off if I was anorexic. Of course, this hurt me. No, I'm not suffering a disorder. He was so high on cocaine - which made it worse. I wanted to cry. But of course, I had to stay strong. And asked him about his disorder; the inability to know what can hurt people.
You hear about skinny models eating a lot and not really exercising, not popular atschool and other bogas alternatives to what we believe they are to be. I'd say I eat a lot, but really, I don't eat as much as I should. But I still eat a healthy amount of food; I just could be eating more. Instead of completely finishing my plate, I could even ask for more. Instead, I neglect more dinner, and aim for desert once my plate is clean of the edible.
Of course, people won't believe me. But no way am I getting into modelling after all the acusations models occur. It seems unfair.
Yes, some bring it upon themselves. But do they all?

First Entry; the classic title for first entries

My font may be rather small, but it shows already, as much as you need to know about me. It can tell you, how hidden I want to be. Unlike the days I may choose to write bolder and bigger: in those cases, I'd be more enthusiastic about what I have to say. No, I'm not the new class stereotype of emo, I'm just a rather enclosed person. I don't like to have to share my feelings with people, so those who know about my inner secrets must feel privallaged. Although, they might not know it at the time. Because I never say, "it's a secret." I tend to slowly open up to the world. And due to popular belief, keeping a diary helps you open the door you've kept locked for a long time. So, now, I'm doing it on the internet. Under something the really is not my name; but something I'd like to name my daughter. I'm not exactly secretative, I just don't want people finding out that this is me. So for now, I am Delilah Make Believe. A three name long name; so my imaginary birth certificate will have to make room.
For now, there's nothing really to idly write about. Even though there is something in the back of my mind that I really want to let loose. I'm just not so sure I should go one about it.
Let's just say; I'm genuinely a happy person, but things don't always happen my way.