the embodiment of luh

So, thirteen people from Chicago made it to Hollywood. I didn't know any of them, but the first girl who got through looked awfully familiar (I talked to at least two girls with a similar look to hers), and I might've seen that Keith guy at the auditions but there were a lot of guys that looked kind of like that so it's hard to say for sure.

Thirteen people ... really isn't a lot. I know that there's usually only a hundred (maybe a few hundred?) or so at Hollywood anyway, but as far as I know there's ... twenty or thirty or so from each city?

The Chicago audition episode was really disappointing in general anyway. There was so much focus on terrible auditions that it just ... wasn't uplifting. I guess this isn't when it's uplifting anyway since this early on they're just ... mocking. I don't know.


I saw Adam on Oprah earlier today and there was something he said about like ... feeling this is what he's meant to do? Though that part was kind of lifted from the Susan Boyle segment earlier in that same episode, I think it still applies. I mean from him I get the impression that he's always known what he's meant to do, it was just a matter of asking the right questions of the Universe and then taking the right actions from there.

I still don't know what the hell I'm doing and I don't know what the right direction is for me but ... now that I've had some time to think about it (lol I started writing this entry a couple hours ago and then um, deleted most of it) ...


... well, it's time to ask some questions, isn't it?

(Apologies to people who are reading this twice. I realized I wanted it posted publically.)

Alright, I found a bunch of old manga while going through everything and most of it is going up for sale. The books are all in good condition unless otherwise specified. I'm going to ask $5 per volume (half of original price) but am absolutely willing to negotiate. I can also take photos of anything if necessary but be forewarned that they're going to be crappy cellphone pictures.

( Lots of shoujo manga with pretty boys under the cut. What can I say, it's what I did. )

found on a box

every dream worth having
contains the power
to make itself come true
but to create requires
more than imagination
it requires action
and it demands of all dreamers
a belief in themselves
and others
in the promise
of each soul to find a way
to dream the world anew

So last weekend I was pretty crazy about having my phone with me. This isn't unusual, but since I've started RPing again I've been just a little more crazy, because I keep checking my phone for e-mailed tags.

It sort of drives Dave nuts. Amanda, too, but I think to a lesser extent. I try to keep cool with it, like, only check for messages/Twitter updates when there's a lull in conversation or when I'm bored or it's like, not my turn at the dartboard, but sometimes it's hard.

"What would it take," Dave asked me last week, "for you to put that thing in the car for the whole weekend? A hundred bucks?"

I'm unemployed, but I'm also addicted. I have a problem and I know it.

"A thousand?"

"Well," I told him, "I'd be twitchy about it. I'd take the money, but I'd probably always be looking for my phone or wondering what was going on." I'm a multitasker. He and I are from different eras -- just barely, since it's only five years' difference between us, but he's also an old soul and eschews a lot of modern things in favor of, well, more organic communication. He didn't have a cell phone until very recently, and even then I'm surprised it can even send text messages. It's a dinosaur compared to my Blackjack.

(And for the record, I can't stand the Blackjack. It feels clunky and horrible and I would really just like a phone I can use the internet on properly. Shame that I'm even up for a new phone and I can't get one because of this silly joblessness.)

"So what would it take for you to put the phone away and actually enjoy yourself? David Cook?"

My friends, they know me. "Well, sure," I said, "if he was around and like, actually hanging out with us? I wouldn't need to know what anyone else was up to."

"You wouldn't even twitter about it?" Dave asked.

"She wouldn't have to," Amanda said, "because he probably would be."

... My friends, they know my fandom, too.

jslkdfahsg

Still waking up



dream about Kris
very very cool dream


I was in this house, I don't know whose house it was, but there was this thing, this THING, where like, Kris and Adam and Allison were all going to be giving a concert somewhere that night, the three of them together, but before that, they were turning up in mystery spots somewhere around town for acoustic sets, but you had to listen to the radio to figure out where it was. And I was listening and the way that it turned out was that the spot where I ALREADY WAS was the place where Kris was going to be, and very very soon. People were moving shit out of this room in the basement and lugging in guitars and stage equipment but mostly folding chairs and I was like, wait wait wait, I know this is happening, someone here said something about this, but they'd only hinted at it to me. So I had to take all this time getting ready because I couldn't look like shit for him, you know? Not like I wanted A Chance or anything, I mean I knew better than that, but I just didn't want to look bad, so I kept trying on different clothes and doing things with my hair and I was still messing around upstairs when I heard a guitar in the basement. And I was like AAAGGH

so I RACED downstairs, who cared what my hair looked like, because I wanted to BE THERE when this thing started, but was late ... and rather than, like, being myself it was more like I was watching myself TACKLE HIM in this crazy mad hug and then I felt like an ass because he was performing (I would not actually do this, okay, and the fact I was watching myself in my dream rather than feeling it makes me wonder if I even just dreamed that I imagined it? I have no idea) ...

so anyway everyone there was like, "omg yeah THERE'S JEN, SHE LOVES YOU" and he was like, "haa, I couldn't tell" and laughed and said it was nice to meet me, too, and I had no idea what to say but blushed like a crazy girl all embarrassed and was about to tell him about missing him at the barricades in Chicago and would he sign my shoes because I was almost going to ask him that if I had seen him then but I couldn't say anything EVEN IN MY DREAM it was awful XD

so I sat down in the corner (why the corner and not the front, was I this embarrassed) he was doing this acoustic set, really just him and the guitar even though there was this other stuff set up too, and it was ORIGINAL NEW MUSIC and I remember being in the audience where there were ... I don't know, less than fifty people for sure, and even a few empty chairs because not everyone could find the place in time. and I remember thinking, wow people are going to be jealous, and I hit record on my phone, because I wanted to remember what songs he was playing and share them with the comm because HELLO, ORIGINAL NEW ACOUSTIC KRIS MUSIC and I even remember thinking that I would apologize for the "cellcast quality" sound and the recording basically being in mermish, because it's not like anyone would care because KRIS. but my phone wasn't working right and couldn't record (ha, this is a sign) and I was like omg what no and I thought I should pay attention to KRIS RIGHT THERE, you know?

I also remember thinking it wasn't as good as BNS and it made me sad.

So after the show he's like, yeah I'll take questions, and goes to sit at this long folding table they have set up and I'm like yeah I have no idea what to ask but I'll be here because I just want to stay here.

And there's this blonde chick sort of milling around the background who isn't Katy, holding this cute little Asian toddler girl, and he's all, yeah that's my daughter, we're going to adopt her, isn't she cute. I am not sure what to make of that part but I know the blonde chick wasn't Katy because I would remember Katy being there and I even thought it was odd in my dream.

So it got to be the part where it was my turn to talk to Kris more or less one-on-one, I mean, there were a couple people just hanging around still, but there were few enough people that I felt okay with just asking him about music and opportunities and dreams and HOW IS HE SO AWESOME and then

then

THEN MY DAD CALLED ME

FOR REAL

IT WAS 7:30 IN THE MORNING

I WAS NOT AWAKE YET AND I WAS DREAMING ABOUT KRIS OKAY



this is just like when my mother called me RIGHT AS GLEE WAS ABOUT TO START last night
and like I get that she was concerned about things but Mother, the wake was THREE DAYS AGO and you're just calling NOW to ask me if I'm okay about it? even if I wasn't, it was like. it was three days ago and I'm about to watch my show that I've been waiting to start pretty much all evening, like watching the clock kind of is it eight yet, how about now, how about now, waiting.

ARGH



BUT DREAM ABOUT KRIS
LOVELY DREAM WITH NEW MUSIC
ACOUSTIC NEW ORIGINAL MUSIC
I LIVE HIM OKAY

So yesterday I forgot my iPod at home. My headphones aren't long enough to reach the jack on my computer at work, but on my lunch break I decided to go to the drugstore to get an extension cord for them instead of going home for the iPod. I know I shouldn't really spend more money, but ... it happens often enough that I might want it.

Anyway, I spent the second half of yesterday listening to my recommended radio on last.fm, and I had so much fun with it that I'm doing the same today even though I did indeed remember my iPod.

I half-worried that it would be all Idol music, based on how it kind of accidentally my playlists, but ... it wasn't (though it did seem to want to push Kat McPhee and Eliot Yamin on me). And I discovered some stuff that I really, really like. (I suppose switching over to my 'rediscovery' playlist lately, with all the stuff I listened to in high school, has helped?)


As far as today, though ... I'm getting mildly tired of the sleepy singer-songwriter stuff. I mean, I like it alright, and I'd even define 'singer-songwriter' as my favorite 'genre,' but ... part of the problem with it is that isn't all that upbeat usually. And I'm tired today; there's only so many Lilith Fair alumnae and their ilk that I can listen to before I start nodding off at my desk. :/

Nonetheless, some notes to self to remember to grab more from:
- Terami Hirsch
- Holly Brook
- Sarah Slean
- Rachael Sage
- ... possibly Allison Crowe; could be I feel ~connected~ because we have the same birthday.

I'm excited.

Too excited.

I think I'm probably building this up in my mind to be far more epic than it actually will be -- I have no camera, nothing for them to sign, nothing to tell any of them. It's not like I'm all suave and cool in my mind. It's not like I have all that much to be this excited for.

I have lousy seats and no backstage passes. I don't stand out among all the other fans who are going to be there.

I need to sleep so I have time to get myself ready and to the airport in the morning.




But all I can think about is how much I want to do this, too.

Dear Idol fandom,

I was supposed to sew tonight.

No love,
brilliantsong



I still think nothing changes.

1. Individual posts for fic were already banned in ontd_ai. That policy isn't actually any different than it was this morning.

2. "Meme"-style fiction with requests and fills has been relegated to a sister community. I don't think the "memes" were getting out of hand, but as long as there's still a home for them somewhere, I don't mind.


I still think it was handled poorly, if only because it alienated people, but I also think that fans are essentially resilient folk. We'll find a way to express ourselves regardless of the restrictions that are put in place and who puts them there.

The Idol fandom in particular strikes me as bipolar: there are people who genuinely love American Idol and its contestants, and there are people who still consider it a guilty pleasure and claim to love it ironically. I think this year there are more people who fall into the latter category; I remember when I started watching and needed to inject a certain amount of irony into my love in order to allow myself to appreciate it. In that regard, this really is still a very young fandom, despite the fact that the show has been running for eight years.

But the people with the so-called "ironic" love -- who love it even though they feel they shouldn't -- are those that in turn make it difficult for those of us who would more readily express our fandom. Look: I love this show. I love what it represents. I love that, even if only as a facade, it gives ordinary people a chance to really shine. I love that it gives me the inspiration to live my own life more fully. I don't think I should have to veil that love behind a curtain of irony. Maybe this means that ontd_ai isn't the place for me; I'm not sure.

Either way, I really do think that the fandom won't really suffer. This is an adolescence; an adjustment period wherein the young community will fret and flounce and slam doors and rage and argue and at the end of the day, or week, love itself regardless, because a community is still a community, and if no policies have actually changed, then really, there's no reason not to go back to business as usual, right?

This is still unlike any other fandom that I have ever been a part of. I'm still not sure why I care so much or why I've invested so much time and emotional energy in it when by all rights I should be sewing for Dragon*Con.

My only real theory on that is that I feel like some sort of custodian of young girls' feelings, which makes very little sense since I am neither mod nor particularly active member! I think, ultimately, I want to help people, and show them that it will be okay, that life's really not so bad, that you'll survive past high school or college or further pettiness, and I think, too, that all this drama is doing is fuelling that very same pettiness.

And it's useless. Everyone will have what they want, in the end; there will be fanfiction and snark alike, just as there always has been. Some people don't like fanfiction; it just so happens that those people were also community moderators, and well ... I don't know. The haters are going to hate.

I suppose if there's anything I've learned from being in this fandom, it's that.

Do what you do. Like what you like. Speak up for yourself and learn how to stand out from the crowd and form your own opinions, because you're not going to be able to please everyone. This is Idol, for crying out loud: the fandom is naturally divided on the basis of being formed around a competition. There will be fans for every single contestant and thus there will be a huge difference of opinion among the fandom and look, you need to be prepared to deal with differences if you're going to participate. And it doesn't matter if that difference of opinion is whether you prefer one contestant to another or fanfiction to no fanfiction.

Something else you'd think this fandom would be aware of? Handling disappointment. Only one contestant's fans get to celebrate a win; everyone else doesn't win the title. Everyone else doesn't get what they want. I was lucky in that my favorite won for the past two years, but you know, I still had to suck it up and accept it when my second or third favorites got voted off in these past two seasons and when my favorite didn't get that far at all in season six. I'm sort of surprised that people aren't able to apply these same coping mechanisms to changes within the community dynamic -- whether it's the "originals" accepting that new members are an inevitability (really; what did they expect?) or the fic writers accepting the mods' decision to ban fanfiction (which I still think is ridiculous because it was fairly moderated in the first place).

So -- yes, there you go. I don't like the decision and I don't like the way that it was handled, but ultimately it isn't up to me and yes there are alternatives and no, the community is not going to ostracize every single fanfic writer that is also a member.


I really did have too much coffee today.

8-5 Scorpio/Leo
Your Sun in Scorpio and Moon in Leo creates a strong, positive personality, with fixed opinions and fixed emotions. If you don't let your intense emotions completely take over, you will become a person of considerable influence and importance within your circle. The blend combines the emotional force, power of will and determination of Scorpio, with the pride, dignity and authoritativeness of Leo. Certainly the two will naturally produce a very strong character and a personality that is full of personal confidence, persistence, determination and courage. Your weakness may be that your feelings and passions are a little too strong, requiring rigid control at all times. You have a complex set of ideals that you strive for, and you're a very passionate person in many ways. You have a rather idealistic view of love and romance, and in fact, most of your other interpersonal relationships. You are a bit harsh on your partner, or just about anyone else, when they show weakness or human frailties. Integrity and character are all important; you expect a great deal in this regard from everyone to whom you are close, and especially from yourself. You have a great deal of pride and consequently a strong ambition for high and authoritative position in life. You have a keen ability to analyze which can help you in may different businesses or professions. Your enthusiasm, spirit and flare for showmanship permit you to succeed at just about whatever it is you choose to do.



Add to this my Taurus ascendant and it's no wonder I'm ~intense.

And worried about stagnation despite all of this ridiculous (potentially hollow) passion. I also hate the way that my Earthy Venus and Mars (Capricorn and Virgo, respectively) contradict all the passion and intensity that my Sun and Moon give me. It's really, really frustrating; my will takes me in one direction, but I'm almost too afraid to venture out of my comfort zone even if I know that I could potentially succeed there.

Mrgh. :/

so I'm stuck here @ an engagement party for soon to be stepsister -- only mildly confusing, that. They had no music, so I generously offered my iPod & my "summer" mix, full of songs both familiar and inoffensive. I went inside to check Twitter (it's broken, still, and thus can't tweet about how boring this party is); when I went back outside, Cook's "Always Be My Baby" was on. I grinned & sparkled as I am wont to do, and wondered whther I'd actually put this on that mix... all happy all the same that I could share my silly Idol music with everyone. it was a small bright spot in the gloom of being somewhere I didn't want to be.

But when the next song started up, I didn't recognize it. Which meant someone swapped the iPods. I checked; sure enough, someone else's red Touch was in the dock where my silver Classic was.

Which means someone else in my family is a fan. I mean, it wasn't an album track, it was an Idol perf. So I believe this... BUT WHO?

also there will apparently be karaoke here tonight @ 7, and I've also been invited out w/ Amanda & Dave, so ... wel, that may not be til later. So I'll do what I can here I guess. But I still dn't know most of these people, so.

Post from mobile portal m.livejournal.com

No, brain, seriously, when I try to program you for my dreams, it would be nice if you would listen so I could program the context as well.

That said, I suppose I can't complain about another "Meet & Greet" style dream, even if it is something much more likely to happen in real life than the wild and crazy adventure that I was going for.

I mean, at least we're sort of on the right track, here, since it was still Cook and all.

Basically the M&G took place in this old school building with a parking garage. I was driving around for hours looking for where I was supposed to go because I had passes, and I was going to be late, but it turned out that the M&G was actually a drive-by in the garage, and I thought that that was sort of crap, even if the band was also there (I am starting to recognize them, yay).

I had some time to kill after that, though, and I heard that there were other M&Gs going on in the school building itself (and thought that there must be a "real" M&G somewhere, rather than just the "drive-by" one), so I parked my car and investigated it. The building was really empty and spooky if only because it was a school building during the summer; I found where Archie was throwing his party and it was crazy. There were balloons and streamers and cake and a ton of little girls who were all in love with him and he seemed a little overwhelmed, but everything was really well-organized and all the teenyboppers got to spend all afternoon with him playing games and having a good time. Good for them, I thought, and I'd heard that there was a different party "upstairs" so I went upstairs where Adam's party was.

It was sad. It was really, really sad. There wasn't anyone there -- I know, it doesn't make any sense, because it's Adam, right? But he looked completely bored, and the desks were still arranged classroom-style, and there were maybe three other people there, and one of them was his handler. I felt so bad, like I was intruding on his personal space or something, so I started to excuse myself and leave, but he was like, "Wait, you're a fan? If you're here for the party, this is the right place." And the handler was complaining about bad publicity, that no one knew where the party was, and how they didn't have a budget so anyone that had actually found the place just ducked their head in and left. So I stayed for a bit, and tried to talk to him, but I was intimidated and he seemed sort of bored.

After I left my aunt found me, and said that she wanted to give me a job, and the rest of the dream had more to do with me double or triple booking myself ... I tried to tell her that I had a job already, that I even liked it for the most part, but she was insistent; when the day came that I needed to go leave her place and go to work for real, she was disappointed and angry that I hadn't made up my mind sooner -- "you should have just said no," she said, "you should have just told me instead of worrying about sparing my feelings." And I had tried, but it hadn't worked, you know?

There was also a bit about me cutting my hair short, and standing on the sidewalk trying to just take everything in -- feeling the pavement under my feet, the wind on my face, listening to the birds singing, closing my eyes and just enjoying being alive. That part was cool.

I'm sure all of it means something, but what, I still don't know.

iPod: *playing*
Amy: Oh, hey, Our Lady Peace! I heart them! ... Your boyfriend hearts them, too!
Me: I don't have a --
Amy: .... :D?
Me: -- oh.


I've got this girl trained good. ;D


In other news, I found more ridiculous poetry in a notebook that I keep in my purse. It's potentially more ridiculous than what's already here, so I'll refrain from posting just now and mention only that there's a phrase that goes, "I want to memorize you / trace the lines of ink in your skin" and I did in fact receive the headshake treatment for that one.

But then, I probably deserved it.

secondhand bliss
strains my limits
all the lies I want to believe
missing my chances
following other lives online
hold myself down out of devotion & fear
refusing to see the truth
crying for the years I imagine I've lost
it can't be desire alone
that separates me
if I toss these moments into the wind
then of course I hate my days
& nights

I'm well aware that anon posts are for saying stupid things, but I'm starting to think I may have overstepped the stupid line tonight.

I was nothing but honest in all of my comments, and for the most part I felt like people "got me." I felt like I was in a safe space, sort of like I usually feel like I am at the comm, because there are other "stans" there. There are other people who are just as mad as I am, if not more so.

And yet -- yet, I don't know. I keep my "stanning" to a minimum and don't talk about it too much, even to other comm members, because I don't want to appear completely insane. It's strange how I can feel both less insane than some of the absolutely batshit fans and more insane all at once.

My behaviors seem extreme to me: calling the radio station to win tickets, crying when I can't and instead paying more than triple the face value of said tickets in order to go to a concert, maxing out my play counts, making the necklace, etc. But it's all almost normal when compared to the girls who are less afraid to act on their devotion and, I don't know, follow the band around, dig up information, try to go up to hotel rooms ...

I don't know things. I don't want to know things.

But I'm ridiculous all the same, because underneath this apparent casualness there's this terrifying desire that hurts and aches and it's starting to scare me. I know that I know better, and I know that I would never act on it -- I build my own barriers and keep myself separate so that I can continue to appreciate in my own private ways -- but it sticks, this horrible fantasy, sticks right in my gut, and I am almost ashamed of how juvenile I am for wanting something that I can so obviously never have. It's like I'm thirteen again, with photos of my TV boyfriends stowed away in my shoe or my locker.

And of these girls that border on stalking, all I can think is how could you be so disrespectful and in my mind I still separate myself from them, claim that I'm different because I supposedly "know better" but look, even I have dreams, and how dare my subconscious mind defy me and my high moral ground like this by granting me a hallucination so ultimately satisfying (and at the same time so heartbreaking in its status as fiction)?

How dare this futile hope even exist? How dare I try to assign something wondrous and cosmic like "destiny" to a love that's so obviously formulated by media alone?

I am pathetic. I am as sad and hopeless as the girls who claim to marry Snape on the astral plane. I am wasting my life at this computer yet again, only now I'm wasting it by watching other people live their lives through the internet rather than by playing at being a fictional character. RP at least had some sort of creative value to it; this ...

I don't know. I really don't know what to make of this. I actually feel physically ill because of how disgusting I am. So much admiration for a man I will likely never meet? So much blind hope for a fantasy? What on earth am I doing?

Why can't I just live my own life?

breadth is not my strength.
I have no head for names, facts, figures;
my love is for your face, your voice, your story,
for your eyes and for your smile,
for the brilliant song in your heart
that shines chord after chord echoing
through airwaves and theatres

and I might call it depth,
the swelling of my heart as I close my eyes
and drink in your sound;
the aching way I try to reach
through the wall of space and fame and empty air;
the uncasual longing that terrifies even me

fearful if I let it out I might erase the possibility
of every potential truth that was coded in my dreams

stars and beads
bang, bang, bang
i cut out the pieces
i showed them to her

something must be up
and tonight at three it's me

nameless faceless begging
more than either one this time
honey, it's our foundation
solid as the rock we crowned

pencils down
what did we learn?

only the same thing
that we're taught on TV
don't be afraid
just say hello

( promises and lies )

dreams unrealized.
hope still burning.
caught wondering.
songs hit too close.
better than another shot.
if i'm lucky i won't wind up in tears at work.

I dreamed about him again last night.

I don't ask for it, you know. Not in the ways that I get it. And I'd almost prefer that my dreaming relationship with this man remains platonic; if it ever graduates to physical contact, even in the world of my own subconscious, something won't feel right, I think.

I designate myself special, different, in all the ways of all the dreams before. I dreamed I was on the show with him, that we were friends, that he could call on me for a favor; now, I think that imagined relationship remains intact, but now that he's successful, the chasm between us widens, even in dreams. I dreamed I went to a meet & greet, last time, with Ali, that I awkwardly pushed my CD booklet across the table for him to sign and blushed and grinned and stammered because I dare not love so boldly even -- especially -- in his face.

Last night I dreamed it was karaoke night, sort of. That after his performance on a wooden stage in the back of what was left of a town he invited the audience members to come up on stage and sing his songs. My friends encouraged me to go; after all, didn't I know all the words to all his songs, and didn't I want to sing more than anything else? But I thought it was inappropriate, somehow, for me to go up. I wanted to keep this obsession private. I didn't want him to know I was there or how much I felt like I wanted him.

He noticed the way my friends tried to push me forward, and he motioned for me to come up on stage. I felt so clumsy next to his apparent effortlessness. He was so casual as he sat back behind the controls. I shook when I stood behind the microphone.

I couldn't remember the words. I knew it was one of his songs, and I knew that I should know the lyrics, as a fan, but it was something I recognized only vaguely, and I felt like I was letting him down. When I did try, the verses came out in cut-off fragments of words, like I was scrambling to find the proper pitch while the melody line jumped all over the place. Even the chorus and the words I knew were painfully off key.

I felt awful, pretending at being a singer. Mangling the man's own song right in front of him. Surely he didn't believe that out of all the people there, I was the one with the same dream as his. Surely, at that point, I was doomed.

"You're nervous," he told me as he took me aside. "Don't be. Don't worry about this, don't worry about me, don't worry about them."

I wanted another chance, then, but I didn't get one. I don't remember why -- we were being attacked or the barn had to close down or something. There were pavers on the road outside. It was time to go, at any rate.

I'm not special.
just another girl in the crowd
with your name around her wrist
and written on her breast

They love you more.
but I would color myself for you
bleach out all my passions
to trashy blonde and spread

wear your star on my chain
and swear I'll never change
blast you too loud
with my windows down

and when you leaned out over me
you had no idea the things I'd dreamed

So this was the first time I was around for a concert party post. There was no cellcast, but I'm okay with that; I wouldn't have listened to it anyway because I want things to be at least somewhat fresh for when I go see the show in September.

It was cool.

But now I feel a little like shit.

I'm getting tired again, and I'm debating just going to bed. But I know if I do that, I'll just ... lose it, or something. It's this heavy, weighted, horrible kind of tired, pressing into my chest and making it hard to breathe. It's a tired that drags me down to earth and keeps me out of my dream space.

I'm tempted to break out the liquor again, but really, that's not going to do anything to help. It'll just give me a headache in the morning.

I want this. I want this so badly and so much. It aches how much I want to be on that stage, even knowing how terrified I would be. I feel it in my chest and in the pit of my stomach, filling up my entire inside with this horrible hollow black, knowing that that world isn't mine and can't ever be because I'm just not talented enough.

How could someone want something so fucking badly if they know that it's not meant for them? Why would I even be allowed to let these thoughts into my head?

I'm such a miserable dreamer; miserable and jealous and instead of practicing right now I just cry and keep crying into my pillow like a pathetic loser. My voice is fading, my throat is tight, and my eyes burn and sting and it feels like so many ephemeral dreams just slipping farther out of my grasp with every night that I spend here.