Thursday, February 10, 2011

Collecting Fallen Tear Drops

"Daughter to father, daughter to father
I am broken but I am hoping.
Daughter to father, daughter to father
I am crying, a part of me's dying.
And these are the confessions
of a broken heart."

Laying on my bed, reminiscing about the times where being hopeful was actually possible, I came across this song. "Confessions of a Broken Heart by Lindsay Lohan". I had first discovered it when I was a mere thirteen year old girl. Sitting on the computer glances through yahoo music videos and just happening to come across this one. It spoke so clear to me, for it was my life story. Now, I am definitely not an aspiring actress, singer, or felon as the singer may appear to be today, but I can relate to what it is she's saying in this video, song, and lyrics.

Today wasn't the best of days. I had cried for an hour before I had even begun to get myself ready for school in the morning, I ended up looking like crap by the way. After leaving the school, not even off of the school's street my friend E.Davis and I were almost side swept by a couple of sophomores who proceeded to laugh at the fact that they had, one, scared the shit out of the both of us, and two, almost hit the car. After dealing with the situation by flipping the two douche bags off in front of the police station and driving off, we stopped for ice cream. Yes, I know, ice cream in the middle of winter? Ice cream is the "ish" (B.Norris)  thank you, so I'm pretty sure we were deserving of some. While ordering the man wanted to question me in my choice of an extra thick cake batter monster shake. I'm quite surprised I did not bust through that little glass window and ring his neck right then and there. Anyways, I finally got home. Upon coming home the usual fight with my younger sister came about which is always a pleasure of mine of course, well that's what she claims to be my problem. So I decided it was just best if I were to stay in my room for a while. I got some stuff accomplished, downloaded some music, folded some laundry, and (you guessed it) cried for another two hours. I do not know what is wrong with me, it's like I just found a new hobby -- crying. Well trust me, for those of you who have not cried every day at least once a day for three weeks straight, it is not fun. After having a lovely break down in the midst of the day my favorite person decided to walk into my life at the moment. My father. He somehow got the impression that I had asked him for a book bag, for my laptop. I kept telling him, "No, I never said that but thanks anyways. I guess I can use it for something." Apparently that wasn't the answer he was looking for. Now, I don't know about you but I don't think there was really any problem with what I had said. I was polite, I told him I appreciated it, I told him that I never asked for it, and with the day I had going for me I didn't hit him so that was a relief for him. Whatever, I got yelled at and stuff for not advising him to not buy a book bag I never wanted. I decided to just call it quits with everything and go to bed, yeah it was only six o'clock. I woke up at nine, and just died inside. I was a wreck, I was having dreams of happier days and then having dreams of the extremes of today. It was horrible and it was reality. I couldn't take it. I started listening to music and texting anyone I could. So S.Leighton, J.Gabler, M.Hudak, K.Haasz, P.Prosser, and E.Davis thanks for all being in my contact list, thanks for responding to my texts, and thanks for the chat. Waking up at nine and having a total meltdown in your bed isn't complete without listening to music and writing a blog of course. So here's where everything all comes together.

Listening to music, I came across that song, "Confessions of a Broken Heart" and it speaks my life story right there. Everything about it, all aspects of the video were completely and totally significant. So while attempting to cry myself to sleep with this song, I figured I might as well share it with you as well.

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