Answers and Evil Blue Drinks

Hi everyone!

I’m sorry I’ve been absent from the blogging world for so long. To be honest I’ve just been lazy. Bad AFTVH! BAD!

Anyway to answer the question about the adorable boy who stared in my last post.

His name is Kanata Hongô and he is 18 year of age. He was born on the 15th of November 1990. He is a really good actor though he isn’t in many movies. He played ‘Shin’ in the movie ‘Nana 2’. He also made a few appearances in ‘Silk’, which is an amazing movie and I suggest it to everyone. It’s a great movie to watch at night with a hot cup of Japanese tea and fairy-floss.

If you would all look at this photo below:

Evil Blue Drink.

Has anyone ever had this bizarre beverage before? It tastes normal enough. That is of course after you’ve spent your whole day trying to understand Japanese to figure out how to open it. It took Lia and I our whole day shopping to open it. Then once we couldn’t and curiosity was increasing, we went to a friends of ours begging her to give us directions. Oddly enough all we had to do was push the glass ball at the top, down so it would fall in the drink.

PFFT! As if anyone could figure that out by themselves!

I have another embarrassing moment to tell but I’ll say it in another post. Speaking of which. I’ll try to post more in the holidays.

Bye bye!

AFTVH >.<

All squished into one.

I know it has been a long time. I also know that I said I'd post more soon. That also didn't happen.

But I'm just so tired all the time. My homework is piling up and I cant so it. I feel so lazy, but is it laziness when you are having trouble keeping awake through dinner. 

Ok that is quite enough of my whining. Here is a really really bad poem I wrote:

Shhh... The children are coming.

Shhh... They are singing in tunes of secret words.

Shhh... Can you hear them coming?

Shhh... Or they'll kill us.

Yep. I can't write poems!!!! Ah well! Ok onto other topics. I'm going to start a new thing. It's called 'Embarrassing Moment Of The Day.' So here goes....

Today's embarrassing moment of the day came to me bright and early. As I was casually strolling to class I saw to of my friends see each other run and hug the other. Mind you one of the girls had her legs wrapped around the others waist. I knew them both quite well so I yelled out; 

"You know raping in the corridor isn't the smartest thing to do." Just as I finished saying this I stopped and someone bumped into me. My old English teacher had heard me say this and gave me the most horrified look. 

Now every time I go past her I have to hide my face or she will give me this; 'I-thought-you-were-better-than-this,' look.

Tell me what you think. Has anything like that ever happened to you? It happens to me all the time. It is usually me saying very explicit things and my Vice Principle is right next to me. 

This is random but I think I might have to kill the next door neighbours dog. IT NEVER SHUTS UP! He's always crying. What is wrong with him? All he does is cry. That really high pitch cry that makes you want to hear nails on a blackboard instead. 

I know this is all very rushed but too bad because I wanna go to bed! o(-.-)o

Ok here is a question for you all. How old do you think this actor is? I won't give you his name or you can just check. How old do you really think he is?

Well, I'm off. Good night.

-AFTVH.

Notice

Hey,

I haven't posted in a while and I know that.

Not that I have that many followers. I'll be posting soon. 

But not now... I am doing *cough cough* homework. That and enjoying sweet sweet life. 

Yummy. I love the holidays. Kind of.

Well I'm off. 

xxAtidoteForTheViolentHills ;P

Caught in the rain

This is just a quick post so I'll get right to the point of it. 

I was in my room doing what I usually do... reading, and my mother came in and said that the letter which we'd been expecting had arrived. She said I should read it. 

I grabbed it. Heart pounding. I practised my neutral face with my mother. I haven't done it in a while so I hoped I hadn't lost my touch. 

She left me to read alone. There where only three outcomes that, that letter could have given me. The first was a fate worse then death. The second wasn't as bad but yet it would hurt all the same. The last was what I'd been hoping for in my dreams. Complete and utter exile of my life. Pure freedom is what it was. 

The letter dragged on and on. At one point I had to stop and start again because I thought it was what I dreaded the most. The first fate. So I started again and I was mistaken. It wasn't the first fate. It was the second. I think my heart stopped a few beats from joy that I wouldn't have to kill myself and from the realisation that I'll be trapped for the years until I reach my eighteenth birthday. It seems like centuries until it would come. 

I was in absolute shock. My mother came into my room and asked how I was and what I thought. She thought it was a good thing that it turned out this way. I don't see how, and I know it's not my ignorance and my being an adolescent, because I know that if she had to go through with the punishment that I must go through she would crumble at the phone. Even the fact that I didn't do anything wrong and still must be punished doesn't matter. THIS punishment kills me. 

So I did something that I hadn't done in a long time. I asked to go for a walk. I put my Ever Last jacket on and my Chucks over my school uniform, grabbed some coins and went. At first I thought I'd go to the city and take refuge at Borders. My ever loving rescuer, but by the time I would get there it would be closed. So I was lost. Not a clue on where to go or what to do. I thought of going to a friend, but even the thought made me internally yell at myself. How could I be so selfish? 

I stood on the walking path for a few minutes until I knew, myself, what to do. Then I decided to get a Slurpee. It was a distance away so I could walk and have time to think. I bought my Slurpee and then I let my feet take me wherever they will. I thought and walked and drank, and suddenly it rained. I'm not talking about a little drizzle. I'm talking about buckets of water down my back. I was frozen and drenched from head to toe with a Slurpee in my hand which felt like an ice block. By the time I realised where I was it didn't matter that I was soaked. I just kept on walking lazily further away from my house, sucking on my Raspberry bevy of choice and frost cold water running down my body. When I finished my drink I decided that I should go home. I took a deep breath and turned around. Casually strolling up the road. When I arrived at the front of my house I zipped up the saturated jacket and put on the hoodie, to make it look like I tried to not get wet. When in truth, by the time I noticed the rain it was too late. 

I stumbled through the door and took my shoes off. Ah darn! I was meant to wear them tomorrow. Oh well. 

I said hello to my mother and started writing. So here I am. A lost but not totally ruined student telling the blogging world her pathetic life story, without trying to give away what truly is the matter. 

So I must go. I am still dripping and ought to have a shower. So much for 'just a quick post.'

Am I going crazy? 

Should I stop this? 

It really sounds worse then it is. If someone told me that all this [including things that I don't talk about] happened to them, I would just say that it'll get better in time. Thinking that it's not that much of a big deal. Because it's not. Even the harsher, cut throat details aren't life changing or even grim. 

Goodnight.

-AntidoteForTheViolentHills   

Pointless banter

Ok I've been thinking and I've come up with an understandable reason to my problem. First off, my problem is that I couldn't seem to write my blog. The reason?

Well all that I've been thinking about when I want to write a blog are my dreams. But my dreams are... less then happy. It's not something I can just write about because they are all images. 

My dreams go from a bathtub full of crimson blood to a person I know following me with a knife out ready to strike. 

It's hard to explain, but then again who can explain their dreams perfectly without fault?

The other person always has the upper hand. Whether it be by having a more advanced gun type or a longer knife. It's always the same. It's the chase they want, and a chase is what they're going to get. I'm not going to let them have me without knowing that I've been trouble. Even though from experience I know that if you make the chase harder, the pain they give you will be more agonising. Maybe not physically but mentally. 

I think knives star a lot in my mind because I know that the knife if the extension of the hand. You use the knife when you want to do it with your hands but it's impossible. So you use the knife. You use force. You imagine that your hands did it. It's much more personal. 

The guns, well... I just like guns. The whole 'This type of gun is for smaller hands and this is for shooting things into smithereens' thing is interesting. 

This is a bit of a pointless blog. But it feels good to get my thoughts into order. You're probably thinking 'That's order?!' But think of this. If I consider that order, imagine what's in my mind!

EEPP!! 

Well I'm off. 

The day's are waistin'

xxAntidoteForTheViolentHills 

Letters never sent

Hi everyone. 

I'm going to get right to it this time. But a warning is necessary. This is probably going to be depressing. This is not for the light hearted. I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm looking for somewhere to vent, and this seems like the spot for me. 

I was decorating my room today. I was moving pictures around and putting up tickets and photoplus pictures up on my walls, when I came across a letter I'd written a few months ago on my cork board. It was addressed to a friend of mine which I'm not close to anymore. I recalled what I'd written. Just the usual; 'If I ever get abducted by aliens or Batman, barge into my room and get my Emily the Strange box and keep it. Never giving it to anyone. Just burn it.' Just so you know, that box has letters and notes that I've saved and might be embarrassing for the people that are mentioned. 

So I took the letter and thought; 'What the hell. Read it before it goes into that very box, into the 'Never sent' pile.' I knew when I wrote that letter that I was never going to send it. But I wrote it anyway. 

I opened the letter and read. I was sitting down and my breath hitched. My heart was going faster. My leg was shaking involuntarily. My breathing quickened drastically. All this happened just by reading something I'd written myself. 

I was wrong. It wasn't the letter I'd thought it was. It was the letter my mind had blocked for my memories. It was the letter I'd written when I was at my weakest and my strongest, when I was most in agony and pure bliss. 

At that moment I remembered how I felt physically when I wrote it. The actual pain I was feeling then. None of that emotional pain. I could actually feel my chest squeezing. Like little fists punching against it HARD. I couldn't breath. Everywhere else it was almost numb, making my torsos pain 100 times worse. 

I know this because as I read that little two page letter, I could feel it again. 

How did I live through more then a year with this pain? How did I hide it? Was it always this bad? Then I saw the date. The 4th of May 2008. 

About a week after I'd written that, I committed one of the worse mistakes of my life. 

Now I'm just confused. I was so ready to not put on a fake smiling face and make it a real one. 

But now everything is fucked up again! Before I had a reason to be angry. Now I can't even remember why I'm angry, but I am. I can't help but be painfully angry. There is no reason to be. People that know everything say that what happened is a valid reason. But I know it's not. 

Sorry for this depressing block of junk, but I feel parochially better now. Okay. That was a lie. But I thought it would've helped. Ah well.

-AntidoteForTheViolentHills 

Happy and Cute

Hello everyone,

I thought I'd start with something cute and happy.

My good friend who shall remain un-named wrote me a poem. Nothing too fancy, just on myspace. It probably doesn't mean anything to her, but to me it does. I've had a lot of friend, some who I called best friends, tell me they loved me and will always be there for me. They wrote me poems and cards telling me how much they cared and that they will always be there for me to help me through anything. Rain or shine they said. 

They lied to me. They didn't stick it out with me. They left me on the floor crying and trying to find the pieces that were smashed around me. It took me what seemed like centuries to find even the larger and more obvious parts of me. I guess she has the right to leave me. I was going through a storm, with lightning and hail too. She never mentioned that.

Now that I'm almost half whole I see people in a different way. That is why what this girl did for me meant so much. Because I can see her. The real her. 

Wow! So much for happy and cute. The poem is though.

I love you.

And your blogging.

And your smooth hair.

And your dirty mind.

And your inappropriate touching.

And your brain! I LOVE YOUR BRAIN!

Yes. It really says what you think it says... =]

I will soon write more about Jessica. It doesn't mesh well with this blog. This is what I was originally was meant to write about. That worked out well for me.

Good night to you all. 

-AntidoteForTheViolentHills  

Dilemma's gone AND poem

Hi there everyone!

I found out today that Lucy isn't changing schools anymore...

So there is no dilemma. Well actually there are lots of dilemmas, it's just that this one isn't a problem anymore...

YAY for me.

On with other more un-important things. Today at school we had to write a poem.. BLAH! I hate poetry, that is unless it's Will's ; ]

I just can't write it. You should read some of the ones a few people wrote. They are so good. I feel like a grade school student compered to them. Really if I can I'll take some of them and post them.

Mine doesn't make sense unless you know the full story. Well it makes sense but you get a different story then the real one. Which I don't mind. I guess I don't like poetry because you have to put in raw feeling that is true, because if you don't write form what you know then it's not as in depth.

I remember it well,

The way you cried,

I held you and told you

Everything was going to be okay.

I lied,

You knew.

Worse things to come.

They did,

You forgot.

Hope you liked it... Well hope you didn't start crying because of how horrible it was.

Good-day to you all.

-AntidoteForTheViolentHills

Dilemma

So as you can already guess, I have a dilemma. Ok that's a lie. I have so many dilemmas that it's kind of creepy.

My first dilemma is that I know this girl, let's call her Lucy. Anyway, a while back, Lucy decided that she didn't like me anymore. I'm talking more than a year ago. Seeing as we are in the same group and sit with the same people at lunch, it gets very hard to be natural around her.

But a years worth of practice has done us good and we've perfected the art of ignoring each other.

The thing with Lucy is, is that she has the habit of calling me a 'Sl*t' and a 'B*tch'. Mind you she calls everyone that and she means it. No one knows why she didn't like me anymore. I guess it's one of life's grand mysteries.

Recently she has been saying nice things about me. Which took me by surprise and also the people she talks to.

This is where the dilemma comes in;

I want to be friends with her before Lucy changes schools [She'll be changing schools very soon]

The thing is, she has a habit of just giving you this disgusted and a 'you're not worthy of my presence' look and makes you feel like you're an ant and she's a mountain lion.

Pretty scary... Trust me... I think if I do go through with this I'll have to bring clean underwear to school.

I just don't know if I should talk to her. Even the thought of it scares the life out of me.

Tell me what you think... If anyone is even reading this.

I'll post my other dilemmas as they come.

-AntidoteForTheViolentHills

Jessica

All schools are the same. Whether they are all-girl, all-boy, or co-ed. 

I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about;

Much too strict code of conduct.

Annoying students increasing at an alarming rate.

Homework overload [Not that you ALWAYS do it]

Loveable and Hateable teachers.

And the best friend that sometimes makes you wonder why you actually hang out with her because she hurts you [emotionally not physically] 

They always know how to hurt you the most, because they know you the most. 

It's very hard to say something because they're your friend. So what do you do?

Nothing.

It just eats at you and eats at you until you decide to write a blog and you realise that you really don't have anything to write about except your best friends woeful mistakes towards you. 

Then you feel even more stupid for even starting the silly blog but wont give up because you'd feel even stupider to stop. 

This girl, let's call her Jessica, just doesn't seem to get that she's doing something that's hurting her friends. The group that she sits with at lunch. could she really be this oblivious to her actions even while she herself, complains about another friend of hers that is doing a very similar thing to her. 

I guess it happens.

I hate schools.