Archive of a Girl

so

Thu, 07 Aug 2008 23:43:24 GMT

anyways. the other night i was really retarded. and should have stayed of the computer and just gone to bed.

I apologize for my random emo-ness.

fuck if i'm not addicted to Kelly Clarkson.

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 06:21:29 GMT

I hope the ring you gave to her turns her finger green
I hope when your in bed with her, you think of me
I would never wish bad things, but I don't wish you well
Could you tell, by the flames that burned your words

I never read your letter
'Cos I knew what you'd say
Give me that Sunday school answer
Try and make it all OK

Does it hurt to know I'll never be there
Bet it sucks, to see my face everywhere
It was you, who chose to end it like you did
I was the last to know
You knew exactly what you were doing
And don't say, you simply lost your way
She may believe you but I never will
Never again

If she really knows the truth, she deserves you
A trophy wife, oh how cute
Ignorance is bliss
But when your day comes, and he's through with you
And he'll be through with you
You'll die together but alone

You wrote me in a letter
You couldn't say it right to my face
Give me that Sunday school answer
Repent yourself away

Does it hurt to know I'll never be there
Bet it sucks, to see my face everywhere
It was you, who chose to end it like you did
I was the last to know
You knew exactly what you were doing
And don't say, you simply lost your way
They may believe you but I never will
Never again

Never again will I hear you
Never again will I miss you
Never again will I fall to you
Never

Never again will I kiss you
Never again will I want to
Never again will I love you
Never

Does it hurt to know I'll never be there
Bet it sucks, to see my face everywhere
It was you, who chose to end it like you did
I was the last to know
You knew exactly what you were doing
And don't say, you simply lost your way
They may believe you but I never will
I never will
I never will

Never again

stfu Kelly's hardcore.

An update on life because I never blog here and I know a couple people still stalk me on here...
I'm still working at McDonald's. I'm quite happy with that. I really don't know what it is about that place but even when I'm having a bad day I never really want to leave to go home. It's just been a constant I suppose. When I was really depressed I was working a lot and that's probably the only reason I ate at all last year.

Oh and Eric and I have been having some pretty amazing adventures as of late. For one, we went camping out at Big Falls.. Big Falls is frikkin haunted at night. No lie. You cannot sleep there between dusk and dawn. All night long I felt like there was something circling the tent and Eric and I head something brush up against it several times. and at like two in the morning we heard a disembodied female voice saying "Hey guys.." When we went out the next morning there were no tracks or anything and the crackers we accidentally left out were untouched so it couldn't have been animals. Yeah, that was amazing none the less.

I'm getting my own place this august. I'm scared shitless. That's all there really is to say about that.

And I really need to go to bed and get off this late night schedule.

So, niiiiight.

I feel like sharing..

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 04:11:51 GMT

Molly Rohl
Guignard
English 1112
September 26, 2007
Horses
It was a sunny summer day out in the countryside of northern Pennsylvania, and there was a slight breeze keeping it from being too hot. I walked, babbling merrily with my red-headed friend, Melissa, toward the old grey barn that housed her six horses. The barn was built in the early 1800’s but had since been renovated and additions had been put on. Stalls had been built in the lower part of the barn to house the horses, along with a workshop for my friend’s father.
As we walked into the lower part of the barn the horses brayed with recognition. Hay was strewn about the floor. I heard the radio playing a country song. The horses pawed at the ground, their hooves making a clackity sound against the cement floor, and bobbed their heads impatient to be let out. I couldn’t help but wonder what the horses were thinking when they saw me.
“Oh look, there’s that clumsy girl again, Jake. Remember when she tried to make me take the bit last time?” I could see Sunny, a Paint mare, chiding about my many failed attempts to get a bit into her mouth.
I walked up to Jake, my friend’s old Standard Bred that was blind in one eye, and put my hand on his soft nose. I spoke a soothing “Hello,” and he rubbed his head against my arm as if to say: “Hello, Molly. Did you bring any munchies today?” His nostrils flared as he inhaled, and I imagine he must have caught a whiff of the flowery perfume I had put on that morning. He probably also knew that I had put the perfume on to cover up that I hadn’t showered that morning. I thought of the day old sweat on my body and the over-powering smell of the lilac perfume over it and realized I must have smelled horrible to a horse’s sensitive nose.
I looked into Jacob’s eyes, something that had always fascinated me. The afore mentioned blind eye was a clouded blue and white color. Through the translucent cloud of white you could still see, vaguely, where a working pupil once was. On a bad day Jake’s eye would have bits of gunk at the corner of it. That day it looked pretty clean. Jake’s “good-eye” was a deep, dark brown and was also beginning to show signs of blindness. I thought of what it must be like seeing out of that eye. To Jake I was a blurred shadowy figure, something he knew more by sound than sight.
Whenever I was around horses I would try to suppress my urge to shriek and giggle; these came from my girlhood fascination with ponies. I knew from experience that to Jake’s sensitive ears listening to my high-pitched giggles, while simply annoying to humans, could be down-right painful for him. So after being around horses awhile I learned to speak in a lower, calmer voice.
“Molly, bring Jake over to the cross ties and tack him up.”
I was snapped back to reality by the voice of my friend. Dutifully, I took Jake by the halter and led him to the cross ties where I tied him up. I made my way over to the saddle rack where I selected Jake’s usual western saddle and blanket.
“Oof! Gah, this saddle’s heavy.” I muttered, as I pulled the saddle up after almost dropping it and brought it to rest against my belly. I carried the leather saddle with the blanket and heaved it all onto Jake’s back. He hardly moved. The saddle I can barely lift is like nothing to this old horse.
After I adjusted the placement of the saddle I started to tighten the girth strap. As I pulled on the strap I imagined it getting tighter around me as it did on Jake. I knew if someone had been so rough tightening a girth strap around me like I was with Jake it would have been very painful. Yet Jake hardly seemed to notice. Once I got the girth strap seemingly tight enough I paused and watched his belly carefully. As I expected, his exhalation showed the strap wasn’t quite tight; I gave one final tug and tied the saddle knot.
I wrapped my arms around Jake’s neck, giving him a thankful hug, and inhaled deeply. He smelled warm and natural, like earth and hay. It was so much better than Lilac perfume.
“Good boy,” I said in regards to him behaving for me. I gave him a pat on the neck and set to fetching his bridle.
When I returned, I unfastened Jake’s halter and let it drop. With another less experienced horse I wouldn’t have been as careless with the bridle for fear they might seize this opportunity to bolt, but Jake was old and he never did that.
“Hey, Molly, do you need help with the bit?” asked my riding companion.
“Nuh-Uh,” I replied, as I focused on straightening out the bridle. One of the straps had come loose without me noticing before and I had to fix it before I could put it on Jake. I was working on threading the strap back through the right loop when I noticed a clackity-clackity sound. I looked up and saw Jake trotting away and out the open barn door.
“Oops,” I said in astonishment as I watched the horse disappear around a corner.
That was how I learned that any horse, no matter how predictable you think they are, can surprise you. I have been on rides where the horse that is normally calm and well behaved will throw its rider and the young, wild mare will end up carrying two riders home without the slightest complaint. In the end, I think, they aren’t that different from humans. They just want to make their own decisions sometimes.

So don't make fun of me.

Sat, 28 Jul 2007 07:07:28 GMT

I don't know what to say anymore.

Incase you haven't noticed...

Fri, 12 Jan 2007 02:06:10 GMT

My live journal is friends only. Which means to read you must meet the following requirements:
(1) You must be a member at livejournal.
(2) You must be signed in.
(3) You must be on my friends list.

If you want to be on my friends list you can comment me here. If I do not add you please do not get offended. It probably is not because I don't like you, but more because I do not think you really want to read what I write in there. My livejournal is my little rant spot. I do not want to have to censor it because I think certain audiences are reading. However, I will be making public posts about my track meets this season. There might even be pictures. =) So you can always check for those.

<33
Molly

Jude...again.

Mon, 24 Jul 2006 20:33:11 GMT

Jude Elliot, a few hours after birth. Photo by yours truly.

(Look! He's waving! =P)

The Banks of Stony Creek

Wed, 22 Feb 2006 18:51:32 GMT

    My favorite place to relax is on the banks of Stony Creek. Every summer we make the long trek from Pennsylvania to Wisconsin where Stony Creek winds it's way through Hixton and flows into Black River.
    On hot summer days I'll often meander my way out the back door of my grandma's big old house. Then I meet my two oldest and closest friends in the shade under a bridge that crosses over the cool waters. Sometimes we will play in the water. We laugh and giggle like children, splashing with out a care. Unpressured by our peers, we don't care how we look in out bathing suits. We are content with ourselves, at least for one afternoon.
    Though I love the water often times I simply lay on my own in the warm sand. The leaves on the trees above me create intricate shadows that sprawl across my body. I soak in the sound of birds' sweet song and the gentle rustling of leaves. A dog barks in the next yard, but it seems so much further away. All the stresses of life float away as I allow myself to sink into the earth.
    Even if I never go back, the banks of Stony Ceek will always be my favorite place to relax.

I had to write it for an English test....I probably failed. No actually I'll bet you anything I got at least a B...Supposedly I have something called natural ability in the subject of English.

Any which way, I like it because it's something very personal to me, and I hardly ever write such things....But I hate it because I wander around too much and I use too many words....That's just kind of how I write though.