Me.

1. I sometimes put makeup on at 3 in the morning, even though I'm not going anywhere.
2. Very few people have seen me when my hair is natural and not straightened.
3. I LOVE cleaning my room
4. I quote movies a little bit too often.
5. I've never been camping, but am finally going this Summer :)
6. I dislike meat, but I'm not a vegetarian
7. I'm hardly shy, I'm actually really loud and obnoxious.
8. I consider myself an insomniac... that or a vampire.
9. I spend A LOT of time with my family.
10. My bestest friend is Nicole Leanne Coburn.
11. I feel bad giving away stuffed animals.
12. I recently learned to sew and am now learning to crochet.
13. I desperately want to learn French.
14. My favorite movies are Moulin Rouge, Marie Antoinette, Burlesque, Sucker Punch, and Amelie.
15. My favorite tv shows are Gilmore Girls, Degrassi, Sex and the City, Golden Girls, My Fair Wedding, and Gossip Girl.
16. My favorite author is Sarra Manning.
17. I have a wall in my room dedicated to Audrey Hepburn.
18. I enjoy spending my weekends singing, dancing, and watching movies.
19. My phone is hardly EVER turned on.
20. I prefer older music to new music.
21. I like lists.

Your turn. :)

Bri.

Courage.

You can knock me down.
You can crush my dreams.
You can taunt and tease.
You can pretend you're the winner.

But you're not.
And I am not your victim.

I will get right back up.
I will venture forward boldly.
I will ignore harsh criticisms.
I will not lose.

I can't.
I refuse to be your victim.

Slam.

I honestly just love being taken advantage of.
And I love being ignored.
And I love being told to 'Shut up!'
And I love having people bail on me.
And I love going out of my way to be nice to you.
And I love getting my hopes up only to be let down.
And I love getting hurt over and over again.
And I love being a doormat to everyone, even people who don't know me.
And I love making plans only to have them canceled on me.
And I love the fact that you constantly:

Insult,
Harass,
Tease,
Yell,
and,
Hurt me.

But y'know what I love even more than all of that?
The fact that I can choose how to react.
I love screaming until I'm heard.
And I love spitting back, 'No, you shut up!'
And I love putting you in your place.
And I love being a bitch to you when you deserve it.
And I love having the ability to move on.
And I love letting you know exactly how much you've hurt me.
And I love slamming the door in your face, and not being something you can stomp on.
And I love making new plans, ones that don't involve you.
And I love the fact that I will always be:

Stronger,
Kinder,
Sweeter,
Nicer,
and,
Better...

Than you could ever even hope to be.

Bri.

Magic.

Ever since I can remember, I've been head over heels in love with one place.
Disneyland.
Frequenting it since I was three, I now consider it a second home.
I can spurt out random facts about every ride.
I can show secrets you didn't know existed.
I can spend forever there and never get bored.

Everything about Disneyland, is magical.
Lights sparkle, music swells, souls soar.
Life doesn't seem so complicated when you wander down Main Street.
Balloons sway in the breeze. Sweet aromas fill the air. Smiles and giggles echo everywhere.
You can forget about your worries and your strife and just be happy.

Tomorrow, after school, I'm going home.
Then and there I will:
"Leave today, and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy."
And once again, I'll be a part of the magic.

Bri.

Everything I'm Not.

Maybe I am a loner.
Maybe I don't have many friends.
Maybe I am boring and
annoying and
weird.

But it sure is a lot better than what you are.
Which is shallow.
Conceited.
Narcissistic.
Cruel.
Rude.
Inconsiderate.
And so much more.

Maybe I am a "nobody" as you call it.
Maybe I do spend too much time at home and with my family.
Maybe I do prefer books and writing and sewing.
Maybe I am everything you're not.

But I'd rather be a nobody than
A slut.
A party-goer.
A drunk.
A stoner.
A complete and utter mess.

I'd rather be single than fool around with boys who use me for sex.
I'd rather be with my family who loves me than with friends who only like me.
I'd rather be anonymous than someone who people only know because of rumors.
And I'd definitely rather be the person I am than someone like you.

Because you're cold.
And mean.
And hard to be around.

So, go ahead.
Call me whatever you want.
Try and make yourself feel better.

But while I'm off being happy with who I am.
You'll be alone.

Loathing the person you are.

Bri.

Head vs. Heart

My head knows that this is wrong.
The little voice in the back of my head is constantly there.
Nagging me, warning me, convincing me.
"Don't do this, this is practically suicide. You're just asking for trouble."
And yet, I ignore it.
Every. Single. Time.

My heart wants this more than anything.
The hummingbird heartbeat pounding behind my ribs is constantly there.
Exciting me, worrying me, tricking me.
"You want this, it's worth the pain. You won't regret this."
And my heart wins.
Every. Single. Time.

Bri.

Melancholy.

I've hated high school from the very first day.
Days were too long, classmates too loud.
All I wanted was to escape, finish as fast as I could & get out.
That's true.

But I can't say that I regret these 4 years here.
Because I don't.
4 years is a long time.
And in those 4 years, growth is inevitable.

I am not the same girl who entered through those green double doors.
4 years ago, I was naive, lost, scared.
I had absolutely no idea who I was or what I wanted.
I was clueless.

Freshmen year taught me not to waste my time on high school boys, they just break your heart.
Sophomore year taught me that it's okay to break rules, just as long as you don't break your beliefs in the process.
Junior year taught me to work hard, and never settle for less than what I deserve.
Senior year is teaching me to accept the past, learn from it, and continue onwards.

I've waited for high school to end from the very first day.
And in 3 more months, it will.
And when it does, I'll have to say goodbye.

To friends.
To favorite teachers.
To crowded school hallways.
To life's simplicity.
To my former self.

Because once I walk through those green double doors for the last time,
my life here, and my life as her.
Will end.

Bri.