Silly Superstitions.

"You doubt them,
And soon they bark and hound you,
Till everything you say is just another bad about you."

There are many superstitions in the world. Most, are ancient, passed down by wary housewives through the generations, either to give you good luck or words of warning, or to help in giving you that feeling of protection against the bad things in this world; all so long as you abide by the rules.

• A dog howling at night when someone in the house is sick is a bad omen.
• A white moth trying to enter the house means death.
• Knock three times on wood after mentioning good fortune so evil spirits won't ruin it.
• If you use the same pencil to take a test that you used for studying for the test, the pencil will remember the answers.
• Pulling out a gray or white hair will cause ten more to grow in its place.
• Do not place shoes upon a table, for this will bring bad luck for the day.
• All wishes on shooting stars come true.

And sometimes, we make up our own superstitions, to help us live our lives with guidance, and give us that feeling of security.

• Never let a moment pass you by, for you will regret it the rest of your life.
• Learn from your mistakes - don't repeat yourself.
• Never trust a guy.

Most people make up their own superstitions and warnings because of previous experiences. Kind of like the lucky underwear you wore when you first got laid.
But I don't believe in silly superstitions. I never have. That's why I keep repeating the spells from Macbeth around Shannen. That's why I carry around a broken mirror. That's why my heart gets broken so often.
Not listening to other people's advice is a bad habit. I ask for the advice so often too, but it's only a rare occasion that I'll actually abide by it.

"Maybe superstitions aren't so silly after all."

If I had listened to my friend's advice, I wouldn't be in this situation of constant confusion and repeated heartbreak. Letting my hopes soar free then hurtling to the ground like a kite guided by someone who doesn't know how to fly it.
If I had only listened, you wouldn't be in my life anymore. I would have cut you loose at the very beginning, ignoring your lies and excuses to save myself the agony later on.

I feel used, and played, every day - and it's your fault.
You don't mean to lead me on - you said it yourself. But you still do it. Even without meaning to. And it makes me just wanna hit the wall and scream and lash out - but the only thing that ever ends up happening, is me - sitting on the floor in the dark, with my iPod on full blast, trying to drown out my own worries with the words of artists who have been through much worse pains.
Do you ever feel bad about how you make others feel? I know your a nice guy. I've described you as a gentleman on numerous occasions. So surely you must be able to see what all this is doing? Surely one would know when they are pulling a girl up a grassy hill, only to push her down again, watching and laughing, and praying she doesn't remember it was you who did it - just so you can do it over and over.

I was at first blaming myself, falling for your repeated tricks. But then I remembered - you know you're my weakness. And you're playing on it.

I have deleted your number and all of your messages. Please, don't call me.

"I’m at home with a ghost, who got left in the cold,
Who knocks at my peace, with no keys to my soul."

Genres and Memories.

"Goodbye, my almost lover,
Goodbye, my hopeless dream.
I'm trying not to think about you,
Can't you just let me be?"

Have you ever watched random people you don't know, and thought that they're just like those extras you see on movie sets?

And even though the pure thought of it is probably the most selfish thing one can think to oneself, it's there: that the entire world revolves around you. Not literally of course, but like, sometimes, it seems like life is an actual movie, you are the star, and everyone else was merely added in as background, subplots, complications and romantic interests, all vital roles to lead up to how your own personal story will end.

Some people have different genres of life, and not many can be in those happy romantic styled movies that all end brilliantly. Some are born into the genre of horror, or drama, or action or even those cutesy sitcoms - where every moment is a cheap laugh and the next humiliating stunt is waiting for you as soon as the laughs die down again. Some live the modern high-definition coloured luxuries, whereas others are stuck in the black and white fact and fictions of the olden days. Whatever kind of movie style that represents our lives, they are always tailored to suit ourselves, liking it or lumping it. 

Personally I find my life is drama, as I am never allowed any rest. As soon as one complication has finished, another one relights itself, whether it be a subplot in the case of my friends, or a new complex dilemma, ready to take over my life with full force and consume all that was there beforehand. 

If the movie idea doesn't aspire to you, then you can always imagine your life as if you are in the computer game The Sims and think back to when you used to lock your least favourite Sim in a room with no doors - empty, barring one single rocket launcher - then forcing them to light the rocket, pretty much denouncing them dead by burning. The simple joy of having control over someone else's fate was always overpowering, and before you knew it, the multiple ways you can kill a Sim become known, and become more creative by the minute.
You could trap them in a swimming pool, or get them electrocuted, or even crushed by hail.
But you didn't have to ruin their lives through death.
You could make them "Woo Hoo" with people they're not married to, and have a baby as the consequence. You could make them have several relationships at once, timing how long it took for each lover to discover the secret. You could make them hated by everyone, and have them spend the rest of their days alone, with everyone unknowing of their dramatic pasts, because you haven't been bothered to fill in their "bio" section.

"We all like that feeling of control"

Sometimes, I feel like I'm the one in a Sims game. Being controlled, manipulated, and forced into fates that I didn't choose. 
Like someone is sitting just above the clouds, pointing at things I must now do, then laughing at the consequences.
Making me fall for the same tricks over and over, until my mood meter is so low that I clash with the others around me, pushing them away.
Maybe they think it's funny, to introduce lovely gentlemen into my life, then allow them to turn into the heart stomping jerks they all eventuate to be. Laughing, when the "booiiiiiing" sound appears when the relationship is over - shattered even - into something that has been proven beyond all reasonable repair.

We all like that feeling of control over our lives. But when it gets taken away? All we have are our memories. 
And for someone to tell you to "start over again" and just forget?
Well. Where does that leave me?

"So long, my luckless romance,
My back is turned on you.
Should've known you'd bring me heartache,
Almost lovers always do."

Open Curtain.

You're sitting side-stage, listening to the overture. 

With your make-up done, and your costume and microphone on, there is nothing you can do except think.

Everyone can see how nervous you are due to your pale face, but only you can feel the accelerated heart-rate throughout your body and that familiar twitch in your right index finger.

The other principle roles come over every now and then, giving you a sympathetic look for your stress and a "break-a-leg" hug for good luck, but no one offers any words of confidence as the mics are on, and the theatre is packed.

Why is it, when all this is happening, do you only think of the negatives? The "what-ifs"?
What if I forget my lines?

What if I crack on that high note?

What if my costume fails on stage?

What if everything goes horribly wrong?

And sure, sometimes you tell yourself something positive, like "You'll be fine Dannie. Nothing will go wrong."
But who really believes that when it comes from themselves?

"A sympathetic look for your stress and a 'break-a-leg' hug for good luck."

When the curtain opens on opening night, no one knows what to expect. Sure you've rehearsed four months for this moment, but when it comes down to crunch time, you suddenly realise you never really properly looked at that one bitchy line. Or you never learnt that one step of movement that had always kept you eight counts behind everyone else.

These simple worries lead you to that massive break down, and remind you off all the work you put in for these few performances. All that time and effort that will have been used up in the space of one short week. 

Was it all worth it? The only way to know for sure, is after you've finished the end line on that four minute solo. There is sweat pouring down your face, stage lights blinding your vision, and the uncomfortable feel of the carpet-like costume scratching against your skin. But none of this matters when you hear that audience's applause, and that smile creeps onto your face, and your thinking "that was fun, let's do it again."