Untitled.

So here's your music:

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=WW4lXR26QpU

As we all may know, I have my own views on life.

I'm an atheist. 

We all know that i believe in science. Science is my everything.

So... Does that mean I dont believe in a... Purpose?

Correct.

What is the meaning? What is meant to be? Nothing.

Life just kind of occurred. It just happened. There is no plan. This isnt a game of sims. 

Hell, i wish it was a game of Sims.

Love sucks.

It really does.

I wish this life was the original Sims... You, the player, picks who this person is. They create them. They pick who is going to "woohoo" and all that.

Nonono.

That isn't life. 

We're all accidents-

Not saying your dads condom broke or anything-

Saying that this wasnt supposed to happen. Nothing was meant to happen. There is no meaning, cant you see?

Now while you're sitting there being your cute little optimist self, saying that God put you on Christian Mingle to meet your true love, I'll sit back here, the realist, laughing. 

Laughing because its inaccuracy is astonishing.

Communication:

This was not supposed to happen. It just happened.

So... While describing this to a guidance counselor... He asked me:

If this is what you believe... Since we're already here.... What do you want to accomplish in your life?

*slow clap*

Mr. T, well... I dont know.

After telling him i didnt know... He asked me what made me happy.

I dont know what makes me happy.

Later on i was speaking of love. I realized... Love makes me happy. Love does.

I told him i guess i wanted to find love.

I dont believe in love. But thats a whole different post, see soon.

How the hell am i supposed to find happiness, if the only thing i think will make me happy is love, and i dont believe in it.

Life. Sucks.

Nellie by Lizz Matthews

Nellie: a poem by Lizz Matthews

Ugliness, blindness

Crimson against porcelain 

My eyes to meet yours

Gone mad

The bloodstains, the agony

The hatred.

Rechid little wench they say

Calypso, Calypso

Yours to mine

Love comes from the brain 

So does insanity 

Fear, fear!

Nervousness aching

Anxiety- boom

Hearts to break

Feet to the floor

Yellow tip of the nail

Strike through the very

Wall

Hang a picture

Earthquake

The picture does fall

Now,

Doesn't it?

Southern Mental School

Hiya hiya!

My guidance counsellor brought up to me that I had not made a post in a very long time. Um. Oops.

I've been very very stressed lately.

If you haven't heard I am planning to speak to the ABSS (Alamance Burlington School System) about bullying, drug abuse, depression, and suicidal thoughts many students are experiencing at some of their schools.

In writing my "speech" I thought of maybe adding the readings of some notes I wrote to myself whenever I went to Southern. 

So I thought I may write here some of the things I found:

Unknown Date

"She has all of these words in her head

Swarming, so she wishes she was dead

Her conscience, the feelings stuck within

Constantly telling her it's "her only friend"

She skips a meal each day

Thinking all the pain will go away

Her friends try to help her up, limb by limb

And when she's about to cut she'll think of them."

"Her heartbeat gets slower

She thinks it's her time

Sadly,

It's not the end of her suicidal crimes."

I then drew a picture of a girl who represented me with no face. Where her face was supposed to be was full of words including: ugly, stupid, unwanted, cheated, used, dumb, worthless, fat, useless, not good enough, useless, hideous, not worth it, strong.

I also drew a picture of a phone reading

"Me: Help

Them: Are you okay?

Me: Help. Please.

Them: typing"

I then found different notes just saying I was a lot of terrible things. A lot of them.

I found a note that said don't read to children at the bottom.

"Oh my god

I haven't done this in a while. Hey Future.

I'm in Irby's (social studies teacher) currently. I've been experiencing hell lately. I might get transferred, I feel like committing suicide, my friends probably think I'm dead. I want to be murdered. I guess. I feel like it's transferred or cutting. I saved this girl named Jenna earlier. We talked last night, she needed me but later on in the talk she didn't reply. My arm is standing up in little bubbles of pain from hurting myself with my nails. That was because at lunch Ms. Hall gave heard me tell Drew his character Antoin (my friends and I all loked to create "characters" to be in conversation by switching voices) sounded gay. Ms. Hall looked at me like I was the worst person to ever live. I sent Holt a message last night, at about 1:52 AM saying that I was just done with living and being here and that I wanted to die. He probably thinks I'm dead. I seriously need to go see Mrs. Davis and talk.

Goodbye. Lizz. (Don't read to children)"

So um that's just some of the stuff I may read to ABSS...

One of the many books I had to keep with me called a "planner" that we weren't actually allowed to write on like this.

A note to myself on my planner wishing to be taken away from the school 

Some of the many times I went to the office faking sickness to get out of school. The one that says "water"

Was actually to go to the bathroom to cut.

Ugh I'm tired and sick and want movie theatre popcorn.

Glowing

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UoMvhEBj2GU

Hey, love!

It's definitely not Lizz. Pshaw.

Whew...

I'd just like to remind you how much you mean to me, you keep me alive. I love every single person who's reading this because you've kept me alive for this long, even if we've never met. 

I've learned that no matter how bad the situation, I can get through it. You actually care about me enough to read this... That's beautiful. That's amazing. I'm so lucky to have you all.

I just want you to listen to this song... It's beautiful.

Flakes

Hey friend!

So yesterday I found this pretty awesome note in a binder of my aunts poetry that I wrote to myself in like May of 2013.

If you've read some of my other blog posts or know me quite well, May of 2013 was the month that my family found out about that guy I had been seeing. Seeing meaning he was attempting to use me for... well... and I didn't get it because I had just turned 13 and he wa- is a "hormone crazed" teenage boy.

This was probably not written in May, maybe a month or so later. I didn't write the date on the paper (gah Lizz didn't Mrs.Phillips teach you to date ALL of your papers?!) but I believe it was a bit after the "incident" due to old diary entries saying I was "still in love" in like June.

BUT ANYWAYS

This note was entitled "Just Think For A Sec."

The note pretty much said "no gurl i don't needs no mayun"

... Just not like that.

For privacy reasons I shall call him Billybob and his girlfriend Jeanette.
Excuse the grammar, I typed it how it was written.

Just Think For A Sec.Do you need a guy to make you happy? Lizz, you have Teri, and your distant friends, and your music. You have yourself. Be glad Jeanette gets Billybob. You said he was perfect but, what about him was perfect? He had the looks down, the humor, and the taste in music. But let's think about this: Do looks really matter? Wasn't he always taking your spotlight with his humor? Didnt he say Pierce The Veil, your third favorite band, was gay s**t? Plus, was he as geeky as "The Perfect Guy" was? No. Sure he liked Science, and Runescape, and even Pokemon, but wasnt he always making you seem stupid? Remember how he said nice things sometimes but most of the time it was just "Yep" or "Indeed" Well, for now all you need is that one close friend, and yourself to make you happy. Not a hormone crazed boy whos kisses meant he cared for you for a while. You don't need a boy, darling. -Lizz

Binette? Jillybob?

Oh sorry, ship names.

wOW I WAS FREAKIN COOL.

sorry

Hey, I was mature for a 12 year old.

Okay I was 13 but I had JUST TURNED 13.

This is pretty awesome though, I have to admit. Little Lizzery don't need no mayun.

So I just wanted to show you ladies (and gentlemen) you don't need a significant other to make you happy. 

They were probably a d-bag if you're not together anymore anyways.

Love and Lil Bub!

Lizzery

This song is Flakes by Mystery Jets, I soo love them right now <3.

All About That Bass

Hello glorious friends!

It is your master, Lizzery.

*ahem*

So today we shall be talking about body types, insecurities, all that snazzy jazz.

So I have an... Odd body type. I'm skinny, like really skinny. Most people would tell me to stop bragging but I honestly HATE my body. Like I despise my body. It sickens me. 

If you've seen me all up close and personal, you'd see I have like no curves. I've just recently discovered sexy = curvy and not sexy = you look like you've been photoshopped. 

I'M NOT CURVY. I'M... THIS. *gestures to ugliness*

Okay curvy girls, I know you're so pissed at me right now. You may want to look like a "photoshopped-to-look-anorexic-but-not-sooo-anorexic" woman, but you're stunning! Why would you want to look like me, a girl who doesn't even eat lunch most of the time?!

People starve themselves to look like me. I honestly hate it. I hate it so much. You're gorgeous! Please don't hurt yourself. Honestly I've been trying to gain weight to be curvy, not way too skinny. 

I understand that there's two types of people, women that love their bodies, and women that hate them.

Most women dislike their bodies. It's sad. I'm one of them. When people tell me to name something about myself I like I can't even think of one thing.

Society is ruining everyone.

I hate myself because I cannot be what is really attractive.

But I also understand that everyone has a different type. Hopefully one day someone can love me from my personality all the way to my looks.

And I swear to you, one day somebody will love you from your personality all the way to your looks and you'll love them too and you'll have an adorable relationship and adorable pets and adorable-

I should stop.

Goodbye my love!

Lizzery to the Misery

I like my shoes.

Beautiful by Lizz Matthews

This is a poem I wrote in school... hope you like it.

Cowardly she walks along the hall,
Covered in broken hearts and shattered dreams
Surrounded by those who shall never know her name
For she's too scared to tell.

Everyday she looks in the mirror thinking what it would be like to be beautiful,
Realizing the only thing close to that are the crimson stripes upon her thigh and arm.
Her only friend is a blog covered in blood splatters and empty streets.
She writes once a night to her so called "friend" before being
Dunked into a pool of medications and drowning in her shame.

This short poem is actually a timeline from the beginning of 8th grade to the beginning of 9th.
This girl is me before I started getting better.