ladybutterscotch6

[ladybutterscotch6]

Dear Viewer(s),

I feel like I’m a driving a car down an empty road. No one’s there. No one that I notice and no one that notices me. My car is not too fancy but it is in well  enough shape to be comfortable. I’ve never really known how to drive the car though. It’s a stick shift and I barely know how to drive a manual. I’ve been able to manage this long on the stick but I feel myself panicking. I know that I will soon crash if I don’t get a hold of myself. But I think that maybe it’s not about getting a hold of myself but learning how to drive. How long will I manage? How long will I have to struggle? I’m aware of my problems but what’s the use if I can’t solve them. Wouldn’t it be best if I pull over and get help? I think I need many things though. I think that I need people in the car with me. Not others to drive. This is my car and I need to choose where to go. But sometimes I need directions and others will help me on that. I also, think I might need to change cars all together and choose a new path. A path where I don’t feel so lonely but I’m also not too crowded. I need to change my exploration.

Sincerely,

A car metaphor girl

[ladybutterscotch6]

No one was awake. No one was mad. No one cared. My god, Iz... I hope you don't know what that feels like.

This was after Mim sneaks out in Mosquitoland by David Arnold and discovers that no one cared that she sneaks out after them making a big fuss about it a year before. I love Mosquitoland and the other two books by David Arnold. So, when I decided to post a quote I decided this one would be good. Out of the quotes I record this one is on my top tens list. I too have felt like no one cared. Even if it meant being punished to show it. 

[ladybutterscotch6]

So about that last post...

Dear Viewer(s),

      Apparently, my first post was better than my second. On my first one, I got one like in less than forty-eight hours. Pathetic, I know. Then, my second, awful post that no one, not a soul on this planet liked besides myself (and that’s being biased) and CloddyPearl. And CloddyPearl took longer to like than my first post. Pearl girl, you’ll probably never see this, but thanks. I know I don’t have the best grammar and don’t know how to really use commas. And I ramble about stuff no one cares about. So yeah, thanks CloddyPearl. 

     I think I joined this site thinking it would be therapeutic to write out all my problems and maybe have people see them and be able to relate. But all this site has brought me is a bunch of random thoughts and hopes. I know I shouldn’t do it but I check my likes/notes hoping they’ll be higher. Hoping that one day I will wake up and on my site I have tons of new followers. And I know I’m being dramatic. I mean, god dang! This is my third post! I really need to stop imagining myself being some bigger blogger that people check to see if I’ve posted. I’m annoyed as heck by myself but, what can I do? 

     So here’s my plan, I’m gonna say screw and do randomness. Who gives a crap? I’ll say what’s going on in my life and tell my opinions on my life. I might post some of my crappy stories. And I’ll post pics of the most adorable cat in the world and some good quotes to make people wanna stick around. Since I’m being all not caring and crap that means I have to stop with some of the self self- deprecating jokes.

Sincerely, 

The trying her best to not care too much: Lady Butterscotch.

[ladybutterscotch6]

I’m dramatic as heck and would rather be with characters in my head than have a life. SO... Let’s be besties!

hi if you: - have ocd - are a maladaptive daydreamer - have a tic disorder - like to complain like/reblog this so we can be friends

[ladybutterscotch6]

So I Know What’s Going On...

Dear Viewer(s),

When I figured things out I felt weird. It wasn’t relief or anger. I didn’t feel like some big cosmic thing happened to me. I just felt like I’ve remembered a memory I’ve been trying to remember for quite some time. I had been daydreaming for about 2 and half years then. It wasn’t till my first year or so that I realized something was different about the daydreams. My last post, in April, wasn’t the best post in the world. Maybe I was being dramatic or felt pressured into posting one thing to my very new account. But that post wasn’t the best. Hopefully, I will redeem myself in this one though. So, without further a do, let me explain some things. 

     In the middle of second grade, I found out my family was moving to North Carolina. Away from the only home I had known. I would start third grade there with a bunch of strangers, and it would suck. I was lonely as heck and spent most of that year reading. I had started The Hunger Games that year and loved it. I’d always wanted to be a writer so at night when I couldn’t sleep I added and changed things in The Hunger Games. After some time, I changed everything that I wanted to change and grew bored. Fourth grade came and I started to read The Percy Jackson series. I loved the series so much but this time imagined myself in the book. I was in the next generation of half-bloods and had a whole clan of friends. I loved my daydreams dearly but I think I started to latch onto them and didn’t want them stop. My social life was very small. The one friend I really had in third grade was in a different class and I was lonely without her. But luckily we reunited in fifth grade. Fifth grade. 

     My characters were so important to me that I often think of them when I have daily situations that are funny or serious to me. “When me and Connie meet he’ll get a kick out of that!” or “Connie would comfort me and make sure everything was okay.” I know they aren’t real, of course. I just started to hope that I would someday meet them. My friends. The people that mean the most to me. And it sucks that they aren’t real. That no matter what I’ll never meet them. And that’s why fifth grade sucked. I kept daydreaming and wanted to get away from my situation that I just gave up on everything else. My family and few friends weren’t as important as they were before. My expectations were too high. So I gave up, and it only made things worse. When my father found out we were moving again I decided to try again though. 

      Sixth grade. What a year. I made some friends. None of them are 3D though. They’re all 2-Dimensional. People that wouldn’t understand. People I couldn’t talk to. I wish I had that. I wish I didn’t have so much to whine about. Which to most people I don’t. I’m a middle-class white girl that has loving parents that take care of her. But my problems are mostly in my head. And once you think about it starts to add up. For instance, I have a problem with getting off subject like right now. But back to the topic! I wish people weren’t one-sided. I wish I could tell someone I think about jumping every time I go near a precipice. I also don’t want them to make me feel guilty for feeling that. I want them to just understand. To make me actual feel comfortable in my own skin for once. And of course, you can’t ask a 12 year old to do that. I wish I could at least tell my parents though. But that’s a topic for another day. If I can’t fix these problems I might as well try to fix my staying-on-topic ones. 

Sincerely, 

A depresso needing an espresso 

[ladybutterscotch6]

Me but it is just the bookstore cause I’m boring as heck

Me *when I enter the book store, game store and record store after payday*:

My friends, family, and bank account:

[ladybutterscotch6]

I’m not entirely sure why I feel this way, but sometimes I’m just sad. And nothing could happen to me to make me feel that way. I have a good life for the most part, but I feel lost. And when I go to school and stuff it’s like I’m a spectator in a video game commenting on what others are doing but never being involved in what they’re doing. So I go to my safe place. This safe place is where I imagined my life as I want it to be. It’s a quiet, fun life. And at some point I got so attached to it that I’m in that safe spot most of the day. I’ve been able to keep good grades and help around with my family but I feel like it’s made me more sad. Knowing that I’ll never actually be able to be in the safe place and it’s just all in my head.