Note Box

I have a note box, see, and it's full of all the notes my friends have ever written me, including letters. I dumped the whole thing out this morning, because I felt like going back over my past. OH, junior high. it was one great big memory trip. From boys to concerts to different boys to the little situations that used to stress me out, it was like a time machine. I can't believe how different I am now. Bamboozle Roadshow countdowns and Matts (more than one, oh gosh). Its nice to look back, but I wrote something down last night at about one in the morning. Once you've known something bigger, it's hard to go back to your small life. Isn't that right? Would I go back to the junior high days? Sorry, but HELL no. I miss some of the times, like our Big Countdown and the orchestra concerts and everything that went on last year. Track managers and Romeo and Juliet, it was nice. But I can't live in the past. Once it was nice to remember all the time, but I know I have to look forward.

Sorry, I know that was a lot of text to read, but its important to remember your past, as important as it is to move into the future.

It hurts.
Not like a knife,
not like you'd expect.
Not like anything,
really.
Its more of a
mental pain.
Curling, crushing.
folding in and in.
It hurts, though,
and I wouldn't expect
you to know.
It's just how it is.



(note, not all of my poems are autobiographical. Most aren't. That doesn't mean they're not real for some people, though)

A Walk to Remember

There are those movies that make you laugh, no matter how many times you see it, and those that make you cry. A Walk to Remember is the crying type. The first time I saw it, I didn't cry, I was trying to comprehend all of it. Now, I'm older and I cry. No matter how many times I see it, I guarantee I will cry. It's something about it. I don't understand it, but it's life. You know that nose prickle feeling you get before you cry?

I'm going to read the book, and maybe see how the words affect me. I don't know, but sometimes words are more powerful than anything. Maybe that's why I want to write. Hmm.
Things to think about.

Think about the title, A Walk To Remember. Just take a moment.

Please don't forget me, I'm going away

Need

Shout out to miss Yazzy! I miss you, call me!

It finally snowed enough to call it 'white' outside. I woke up and literally gasped. I was THAT happy. As I see it, as long as it's cold, there might as well be snow. And there finally is. I'd post a view from outside my window, but my camera is hiding...

Christmas is soon. believe it. I finally got some gifts, and even so, its just for my family.

Somehow, I'm in no mood to write poems. I've written some lately, but I am trapped in my chair by my sweetie, Ginny (she's a cat). Is it weird that I don't feel like writing a poem today, but rather blabber meaninglessly about life? I don't think so. I think that my brain is taking a break. Sort of. I mean, it's not exactly trying for me to write, but I'm exhausted all the time. I need to get up and go. To do.

I hate going to the bookstore with no money, but I see ALLL these books I must have. Then, I can't buy them and am forced to leave, thinking about all those lovely words, just bound up for me to read. I can't help it. I love those books, and maybe I should stop going to bookstores. Sigh.

sorry darling, your present will be late this year

Can't explain this one away
there's a worry, deep
in the pit of my stomach,
just like the novels say.
Its gnawing, dragging its
fingernails into my flesh,
not letting go, because
somehow i know its not just me.
Something isn't right.
A small smile,
a sad-eyed stare.
Those claws dig deeper, until
sleep can come
Some distraction.
Its not just me.

This is it. The end of a semester. Of my art class, of the regular walking paths, of sitting with the people that I can discuss abortion and drugs with. The end of alot, but the beginning of a new semester, and of winter break, and of being done stressing for two whole weeks. Bittersweet. I had my last day of french, orchestra, bio, and art. Well, of that semester and class, anyway. Yoo-hoo.

My poem-a-day is going well, and I get new ideas every day....

I'm trailing off. There's nothing interesting to say, to blog about.

Have you ever noticed how fabric makes the most beautiful sounds? Rustling and calling, whispering and crying out. It's amazing. It's cloth, but we were watching a movie in AP world today, and the fabric rustling was so loud and it was so perfect. Fabric tales. I'm a bit crazy, but if you take time to listen to everything. Sit on the bus without an ipod, walk through the halls without talking. Just shhhh and listen. You'll be surprised at what you hear. Like that gravel crunching or your shoes squeaking, or even the air speaking. Or maybe it's just me.

Dragging feet all the way
down the street. the bus
is waiting. The trees lean
down, leering.
Arms wrapped tighter, chest
covered. toes slowly freeze,
but its not worth caring
for. Let them freeze.
Swallow past that lump,
the one that takes residence
in throats. Block the tear ducts,
but no need. Crying isn't good anymore.
Gradual steps down the aisle.
Head down, arms over chest.
The wind caresses the bus,
but leaves the inside
untouched, for once.
Sneering faces and hidden giggles.
everybody knows.
But they don't really know.
not everything.
and thats enough.

Dec. 11 poem

All at once
the wind came.
My hair whipped
in strands, threads
around my face.
I closed my eyes
and wished.
Wished on that gust
of wind, as it
blew away.
My essence followed
and left me behind.
Sucked my lungs dry,
took all my air.
I watched it go
carelessly, not realizing
my loss.
My parted lips called
and called,
but the wind had
blown away.

Notebook :)

For SinterKlaas (Dutch Holiday, generally the fifth of december, I guess mine was late) I got a new notebook! Well, not so much a notebook as a journal. Subtle difference, let me tell you. It has no lines on the pages (good for mindless doodling) and it has the prettiest dyed cloth cover. Sadly, no spiral. But I can live with that. I love it! It's my new poem book. I am in love. I swear, the only thing I need to be happy is a notebook and pen. And possibly music.

I'd Hate to Rain on Your Mayday Parade

Last night was the mayday parade concert. There were four other bands there, too, and the whole thing lasted until about ten thirty. The first band gets the worst of it, i think, because the crowd isnt warmed up (literally, it was FREEZING last night) and then nobody wants to dance, because the opener is usually NOT who you came to see. But after that, the dancing and clapping, and having fun starts. The band before the headliner is usually when the pushing starts (ladies, have your arms in front of your chest to avoid chest squishing. Keep your shoes tied (i almost lost mine) and try to maintain balance and not get caught behind the tall guy with the sharp elbows. Most of all, enjoy the music.

Deafening silence
rings in your ears
the hearts of
others thrum
to the songs.
Fingers and arms
entwined, together
our voices rise
to be
the music.

During "Miserable at Best" by mayday parade, the entire crowd was singing, and it was so amazing. Didn't matter who you were, or anything. Just that you were there, being apart of the music. That's my favorite thing. Being the music. Sometimes I close my eyes and just take it in. I don't need to see, just to hear it. To feel the bass thrum in my bones and the drum beat align with my heart. Just to be there. That's why I love concerts. Because of the music.

TWLOHA

Yes, TWLOHA again. I'm so sorry to bore you all, but this organization is very important to me. It's not because I self injure or abuse substances or have suicidal thoughts. It's because of the hope that it represents. That someday, we CAN get better. I first found out about this, thinking it was a band. I was always wondering what it was, and someone explained it to me. I went online and saw what they stood for. I read the story, and cried about all that is wrong in this world, and because there was still hope. I know people who self injure. It's a hopeless thing, and TWLOHA gives people hope. I can only hope that it will affect more people than it already has. TWLOHA might just save a life, you never know. Spread the word

Anna Banana you make my days better. I got your letter. (yes, it rhymed, be proud)

Back to finals studying and figuring out logs. Yay, high school

Music is a universal language. I'm not kidding. I know that not everyone sings in english, or whatever, but everyone understands music. or the mood of it anyway. And, i might point out, they do sing in english in the netherlands. Music is magic.

Philophobia
I have a fear
of falling in love,
of being in love.
I have a fear
of wanting, of needing
someone. I need to know
that I can be alone.
and that I don't need anyone
because when bad comes to
worse, i can only depend
on me.
I have a fear
of falling hard,
of not being enough.
I have a fear
of falling in love.

Think

It's hard to know what I think anymore. Give me a topic, I can tell you my opinion. But my opinions just happen during the day, without me going back and really thinking on them, you know? I just think how I think and that's that. But philosophy club at school makes me question my opinions and explain them. But how can I explain that morals are not set by a god, or that there IS in fact evil in the world? That in a society of rapists, rape would be a-okay. Opinions are opinions, and once you learn how to listen to both sides and then argue your point, you can't exactly sound intelligent, now can you? See, if I ramble long enough I'll eventually get to a point. Yay, me!

Voltaire, a famous french philosopher of the Enlightenment said something along the lines of this "I may not agree with what you said, but I shall die fighting for your right to say it" obviously not his exact words, but think on that one.

my day poem

Good mixed with bad.
Sushi dipped in soy sauce
and using my chopsticks right,
for once.
A guardasil shot, the last,
thank goodness. I don't think
I can take any more of THOSE.
Simple homework, don't
work too hard.
Finals creeping in,
settling on my bed
and not budging until semester's
end.
Smiles and laughs with my friends,
a tickle war in the hall.
Not seeing that person,
the one I wanted to.
Good mixed with bad,
its just a normal day.

Tech Update.

So, get this. Today, I sign onto my email, and I have some emails waiting for me, from computer softwares, wanting me to put their name on my blog. Imagine that! It's cool to have people emailing me wanting me to write reviews for their blog. I mean, Im guessing it's not just me getting these emails, but these are my first and call me a dork, but I got excited. One of the emails was from something called Screen Capture Software. Now, I'm not too big on technology, but I did look at the features and it looked pretty sweet to me, especially now I'm on twloha street team, and alot of the 'proof' of missions are screenshots. So, go check it out at Screen Capture Software

Hopefully I'll post more later, (Windows 7 TuneUp here I come) but with a job and school, I'm a little busy sometimes.

Almost famous

What's the best thing about thanksgiving break? Having a friend over, a couple failed attempts at kidnapping, and an awesome movie. Minus the getting held down and tickled part, of course. Goodness, jake, you and your little red wagon ;)

Things Fall Apart
and crack and crumble.
A paper ball,
crinkled and used, anger
and agitation creased into
every fold.
Watching, still,
as the house you loved,
falls to ruin.
Parents screaming downstairs
with no sign of letting
up, while they think
you might be asleep.
Things Fall Apart.

Hopeless

I have this friend,
you see.
Don't we all?
And she has
this problem.
Should you ask
why i'd care,
I'd reply
"Because I love
her" and I do.
Now her problem
is like mine.
And I can't help her,
can't think how.
Only hope.
But when I'm
hopeless? Then what?
You might say
it's not mine to solve.
And I'd reply
"I love her"
and I do. but
love doesn't seem
to be enough.

As you can see, new look. Hope you like it. Thanksgiving break soon, thank goodness. I need it.

oh... a title?

I got two things today that made me really excited. One, my paycheck. Finally! All those swimming lessons finally paid off (literally). Also, my letter tops from Anna Banana. I appreciate you sending them to me anyway! Thank you! But, I fully expect another real letter (it does not have to be ten pages) before I can respond, because all i know is that you did a wonderful drawing of an eye. :)

Also, super long photo shoot today. No, I'm no model. It's for a friend, and his art project. Hilarity at its best.

Sometimes I look out my window and imagine the same horror movie horrors happening. Like, getting my tongue cut out. And, a girl with black hair crawling from my TV and making my face look, erm, interesting. Mostly, I imagine just anything scary, to maybe give my heart a little bit of a beat to it. Its a weird game I play, but its just a game because nothing ever happens. I've never been in a horror movie situation, other than the time I was at the abandoned house at night. Scary, to be sure.

Ah, it seems ive run out of things to say. Oh, not quite! the food drive at our school raised soooo many cans. It was crazy! Film Club alone raised, like, 600 cans. or other food items. Im really proud of our school and I can assure you that third phase (the place we raised food for) will be PACKED. :)

inspiration

Hand pressed to
glassy window,
wet with rain,
the sky's tears.
The darkness has
set in for the
night. Clouds
block out the stars,
and a light shines
on the wet asphalt.

Turn away, back
inside. You pound
you music and
lock your door.
Books and papers
spread, the picture
perfect of studious.
And a light shines
on the wet asphalt.

Pull your sleeves over
your hands, cuddle
up warm.
Roll up tight into
a ball. Door locked,
isn't it? Double check.
Heavy pounding footsteps
on the stairs.
That time again.
And a light shines
on the wet asphalt.

Turn the music down
but not too far.
You're not asleep.
Can't be yet.
Footsteps thud
bu your bedroom.
Let out your breath.
Dont come back.
And a light shines
on the wet asphalt.

Not coming back.
Give in, sleep, finally.
Is the door locked?
too tired to check.
But the footsteps
come back. Door, open.
Drunken breath.
Pounding hands, cower
down low.
And a light shines
on the wet asphalt.

Later, new bruises
of his disappointment.
Sitting, staring,
Hand cold on galss
dripped with sky's
tears.That light
looks like hope.
Through it all,
a light shines
on the wet asphalt.



(I'd love to hear your comments, I eat them up :) )

Genetic talk today. Four hours of my day spent sitting in a too-dim room listening to alllll the details of genetics. Fact: I will not be a scientist. Fact: I definitely wanted to just skip out and go to my art class. I should have, nobody would have known.

Other than that, my day was so-so. not that anybody reading this would care, would they? I wonder how many people read my blog with any sense of regularity. two? three? Maybe? Oh well. Someday I'll have something I've written published, I just know it. I have to make it happen. Collection of poems is what I'm thinking. You think anybody would read my poems? Not all of them are brilliant, I assure you. So, should I go for it anyway? Tonight I'm aiming for a deep symbolism in my writing, because I'm feeling quite deep. Poem post tomorrow, I swear.

Friday the 13th

An ever-calculating mind.
Soon, expectations
turn sour. Butterflies
shrivel and die,
stomach heavy.
Tears run down,
unstoppable. No matter
the attempts
to quell saltwater.
Love on her arms,
tears on her face.
Sometimes, things
go wrong. But why?

The House

"I don't like
this place"
open the door,
glass on the
ground.
Death lingers.
Rot, too,
and fingers
of decay
tighten their
hold each day.

"Let's leave"
around the
corner,
secrets burn
and a once-
beautiful room
falls to ruin.
and the basement
floods with
stagnant water.

"it's beautiful"
though sunken
and hollowed
and chewed
up and swallowed,
and erie darkness
remains. Past
the broken
window panes
and cracked visage,
the shadows of
beauty lurk
for those who really
look to find.

not the best

Mind whirring
much too fast
for sleep.
Enclose your mind
between two hands.
The outside
creeps in.
You hope, no,
pray, for sleep
to come.
Sweet release
from reality
into nothing.
Falling hard and
fast, wishing to
never wake.
because when you
do, its all you
can do not to
cry.




admittedly, not the best poem ive ever written. but all of a sudden a black cloud has come over me and all i want is some ice cream and sleep but both seem out of the question.

poem every day for 100 days. Ive been going three days now. sadly, i dont always have time to post, let alone write a poem. I try super hard, though, and sneak in some rather crappy ones in moments when im alone. Ill post todays later, right now, back to math. OH, the joy of babysitting all day, and yet still there is work to be done.

the key

how can you explain
happiness?
Warm slippers on cold
feet. A fat book
on a rainy day,
perhaps?
the lyrics to your
favorite song,
knowing them
while you sing along?

How can you explain
sadness?
The tide pulling
away from the shore.
Looking at a car pulling
away, leaving you
on the curb.
Watching some little
bit of you blow
away in the wind.
just like that,
gone?

How can you explain
yourself?
You say youre
simple enough,
nice enough,
enough.
But are you really?
thin little prickles,
a feeling,
not quite right.
can you sum it
up in
just three words?

Funny how those you thought would never hurt you are the ones that end up hurting the worst. Funny how building up a wall won't stop the damage; in fact, when it comes down, you'll just have a bunch of rubble. Some days, nothing makes sense.

recipe

of the perfect prank.

• Step one, steal a friend's cell phone
• Step two, change contacts of people you know they will call/ text
• Step three, replace the phone, and make sure you changed your own number
• Step four, text them and see the look of surprise as 'death' texts them. Hilarious!

I'm keeping my phone as it is, changed. I sort of like Jack Sparrow texting me, as well as Tickle Me Elmo. ;)

i dont understand it. You'd think i would, after all this time. But some things escape me. surely they escape you, too? Somehow, this stings the most. And knowing nothing does nothing. Because the more I see, the less i know of what i thought was to be true.

Mine, all mine

Should I have said?
Entrusted in you, a secret
That was apart of me.
A vile little demon,
Always perched in my breast.
I trusted you,
But I had lied.
Had I done wrong,
In thinking it was too much for me,
Too much to confess.
I am repulsed with myself,
And I entrusted in you,
A vile little secret
That was burned into me.


It was too much for me
I couldn’t handle it
So how could I think you could?
How could I know
How it would matter?
Words not said, held away
Stored in my coffers,
To be given in droplets.
Even I don’t open that coffer readily.
A secret of myself, better forgotten
I couldn’t handle it.
I couldn’t contain it.
Not a bird, to be sure.
Instead,
A limp and shriveled thing
I caged it away,
And how could I let go?

car clipboard

my headphones got run got rung up as a car clipboard, and only cost a dollar thirty. made my day :)

everything is yellow

i look out my window and all the leaves I see are yellow. I wish they were orange.

I'm a panda

Today was the last day of swim lessons. :( that makes me so sad! those kids were so nice! (most of them) And i'm going to miss getting in the pool two days a week, because sadly this year I am not swimming. Too hard on me. Next year, when I (might) take slack-off classes, I will swim.

No longer afraid to dream
fingers grip palms,
eyes closed tight.
Release, breath mingling
with others'.
All listening and
dreaming, wishing,
wanting to be ourselves
and know that its okay.

No longer afraid to cry.
Up there, in front,
she cries, wipes her
eyes with palms,
trying not to show.
Words are powerful,
too, and
it only feels right.

Just afraid, somehow,
I would forget.

I'd put up pictures of me at the concert (NeverShoutNever) but, its just not feeling it tonight. I'm going to try to do a poem a day from now on, but let's see how that works out.

Shout out to Anna! Keep writing, dear. I'm looking forward to this amazing letter!

Oh, and halle? I do care that you write on your blog, I love it!

Logophobia

is the fear of words. Imagine! Being afraid of words. I can't imagine not having words at all. I need words, i crave them.

Today I am obsessed with fears. Mnemophobia- fear of memories. Sometimes I just don't want to remember. Fear? maybe. Doesn't everyone get this sometimes?

Omphalophobia- fear of belly buttons
Philophobia- fear of falling in love
Soteriophobia- fear of depending on someone
Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia- fear of long words (someone has a sense of humor)
Kakorrhaphiophobia- fear of failure or defeat
Allodoxaphobia- fear of opinions
Arachibutyrophobia- fear of having peanut butter stuck to the roof of the mouth

Some of these fears are silly and weird but if you stop to consider, there are hundreds of fears, rational and irrational. It only makes sense that there would be one for everyone. But which is mine? Soteriophobia? aichmophobia? (fear of needles) But for some reason, I am in love with the idea that these fears are all named. That they all exist. Don't ask me why, maybe stemmed of boredom?

NevershoutNever tonight! homecoming was last night. Grinding= not cool. Next year, im not going, because seeing all my friends grinding on everyone else, not exactly my scene. At. All. Concerts are more fun. Hopefully this one will live up to expectations.

The Haunting

was a seriously funny scary movie. At least with me and my friend watching it, with our lovely commentary. Hahah, I love staying home watching a movie with friends instead of standing and shivering at the football game at school. Hahhhh.


Tomorrow is homecoming, and I kind of can't remember why I wanted to go, but I'm sort of kind of looking forward to it. Who knows?
Sunday is NeverShoutNever concert!!! I'm sooooo excited. I love him! :)

For some reason, I can't seem to write anything worthwhile lately. Maybe I'm finally settling down into life again. A job (teaching swim lessons) and homework under control. Friends (come on, look at us!) and everything seems to be going well. I don't want drama, but I'd like something of consequence to happen. Sadly, that usually entails the g word. Guys. I don't know if i can handle that, but you never know....

I'm going to paint a poem on my wall. help me choose! if you realllllly like one of the ones previously on my blog, hunt it down, and tell me what the post was called. Please and thank you.

writers block.

oh, anna, your cousin is in my SMaRT period class. Whoa, dude. :)

mhmmm

I painted this over the course of a week. Somehow, between swim lessons and quiz bowl and homework, I found time for this. Because, really, I enjoyed it. Sure, I googled peacocks and then drew it on the wall THEN painted it, but whatever. I love in anyway. :)

Champagnes for Celebrating

(I'll Take a Martini)

Current obsession: Mayday Parade!

So last night, there was this party. We danced allllll night long and it was the best time ive had in a while. Seeing us dance, it's no wonder we love concerts! We dance like we're at a concert, jumping and screaming and sweating. This morning I woke up with a bruise on my cheek and a very sore neck. (The bruise is because I was playing ping pong and Danny tickled me, and i swung around with the paddle and nailed myself in the face and him on the shoulder. Ouch)

School is getting easier for me. Because, I'm used to it. I know I have to read a TON for AP World History every night, so I plan ahead and highlight in my book and get all my other homework done. Now, if only I could remember to do projects....

I'll update on the crazy adventures of Emmer once I have some to report on.
Right now, i'm just waiting on this letter..... ;)

Growing up,

Little hash marks
up, up the doorway.
Remember, when I
was young?
The days when I
stood tall, prideful
in who I was.
Society has shaped
me, shaped all of
you. Slouching
in a tall shadow,
not able to live up,
lacking want to try.
Little hash marks
in the doorway.

Growing up, but
beaten down.
No longer able
to giggle for hours
on end.
Remember?
When life was
silly.
Remember, the
days when I was
young, small.
Awkward youth.
Growing up,
but beaten again.

----------------------------------------

Orchestra concert today. We played okay. But when I was sitting there in the crowd in my hideous dress and heels, looking up at that other orchestra sitting under the lights, breathing in the concert, and their fingers tracing familiar paths up and down the necks of their instruments, it was somehow magical. Dreamlike and beautiful. The notes may have been... ehm, wrong sometimes, but it was the energy with which the crowd responded, some swaying along. I myself was transfixed with the cellos and the way their fingers and bows seemed to weave effortlessly in and out of notes. I hope that I look that way when I play.

Time

Peacock. That's right, peacock. I'm painting one on my wall, pictures up as soon as i can think of it. And, when it's done. Tee hee.

Monday, again. I wish i could speed forward time to homecoming and then to NeverShoutNever! Gosh, how fast time is passing. the leaves on the trees are changing colour, the chill has set in, the comforter on my bed has shown itself, the air smells like that strange blend of fall, rain, and winter. Christmas shopping? Nine weeks exams? Finals? What is all of this? Can I slow it down? Make more memories, because I love it so much. I can't imagine growing old, can you? Because I'm 14, and I can't even picture being 17 or 18. Not even close. And, somehow, I don't want to be. Not yet. These are the years that I can be crazy and find out just who I am.

I wrote a poem, but i can't find it! oh, no! maybe i'll post it later. Au revoir!

Ruler

so i have this drum, in my room. And it is loud. Snare drums are INSANELY loud, just so you know. And every time i pick up the drum sticks, my sister gets annoyed and tells me to stop playing. well then, guess its going to be a four a.m. wakeup for you! Well, im kidding, but wouldn't that be funny?

so, Ive posted alot of poems on here. And, the majority of poems I've written lately are on here. I love putting poems on here because i write about things that are real, and i think that its easy to relate to, because its better than reading a poem "Quoth the Raven, Nevermore" which makes NO sense to you whatsoever, am i right?

I'm going to go on a writing rampage, so beware!

Thought of the day: is strength recognizing that you are weak?

Challenge

of the day: Tell someone something that you have wanted to tell them for a while. Now, i will say that face to face is better than texting or facebook or whatever. But, do however you please. Maybe if you are totally honest with someone, it'll be to your benefit. But dont murder me if it backfires!

A blend, of night
and living.
Fireflies light up the
lawn,
so many that you can't
tell where they end
and the stars begin.
Life and darkness blend,
because without one,
the other would not be.
Fireflies,
light the way

Situations

For those of you who have never read the To Write Love On Her Arms story, it is simply beautiful. twloha.com, and go find the story. I myself do not have a god, but this story is inspiring. I received my own To Write Love On Her Arms shirt just the other day, and it brightened it so much, just to have that shirt, to stand for a good cause. I wore it the next day, and I loved explaining the cause to people who asked me about it, because they didn't know. Maybe if we spread the word, something will change.

"We will be the hopeful" one of the shirts reads. And I am one of the hopeful, and I hope everyone can be. We can't stop the bad things happening in the world, but we can try to help make it better. To be the hopeful.

Nothing's bigger than love, so everybody write love on their arms.

Continued.

Things I miss
being carefree
pleasure pack
some friends
being naive about 'love'
knowing what I wanted
having time
easy classes
my first kiss (still having it)
excitement over new things
laughing more than crying
not being afraid
being little and simple
not being hurt
swimming
holding hands
looking forward, not back
The Campout
oodles of snow
a BEST friend
loving running around outside
playing 'house'
polly pocket
being 5 years old

Things I'm looking forward to
Finding out love
NeverShoutNever
college
making new friends
driving
freedom
living for me
re-learning carefree
laughing more than crying
being held close
inspiring others
getting over it
reconnecting
next summer
writing camp
summer gym
being kissed
roadtrips
shnuggle time
sleeping
getting braces off
Life

you see,

I have this problem. I hang on to the past, instead of moving forward to the future. I've been having flashbacks of things in the past, all stemming from Bamboozle Roadshow, which has turned out to be a major turning point in my life. My first concert, I turned 14, I met my first real boyfriend, Started to not listen as much to my parents, and pretty much things have gone from there. But, is hanging on to the past a bad thing?

Sometimes, yes. Because if I can't let go, and everyone else can, I'm left behind, likely hurt. Because if I can't let go, I'll never get over things. Simple as that. I look back and wish I would've done things differently, and if things wouldnt have turned out how they have. Sometimes I wonder how life would be if.... (fill in event here)
Even small events make a big difference.

But I want to let go. Maybe I should start by being honest with myself and with other people. Just release pent up feeling, and then I'll be ready to start looking for the future :)

More later, i guarantee.

Falling down

So, I wrote this bit of a song. I'm not a songwriter, that's for sure. please comment and let me know what you think!

It's gonna be a long week
I feel the weight
crashing down,
crashing down
around me.
I'm not safe,
no longer safe,
from it all.
Watch closely,
as my tower falls,
falls down.

(chorus)
I've been crying and
crying, but I've got
no tears.
I've been crying and
crying, but it doesn't
do any good, not
anymore.
The walls are
crashing down,
crashing down
all around me.
I'm trapped.
Oh, I'm trapped


So that's my song. Sort of. Its a work in progress.
Anywho, today was better. And I'm going to catch up in classes because I feel productive right now. Yes!
Anna~ I miss you a hell of a lot, too! I'd call you and talk, but I don't know the time difference, and letters are so much more special. :)

Challenge of the day: Pass on a smile to someone you don't know in the hallway, or talk to someone you've never talked to before. Its nice for everyone :)

Trekkie!

Okay, i should not be blogging right now. Because I have sooooo much homework, my head is pounding, and I guarantee that I will not get enough sleep, leading to another shit day tomorrow. Joy to the world.

Im not even going to type up all my homework, because it's going to stress me out more, and writing is to de-stress me.

So my friend asked me to write a song for him. Im going to, of course, but I need a starting point. I'll get there though, no worries.

This weekend was actually pretty okay. Friday night I went to a football game of a school I don't go to with my friend, and i got a GLOWSTICK. colour me excited. Saturday I did a bunch of random stuff like painting the house, mowing the lawn, and ripsticking. Sunday, study group. Sunday was shit. I need a break from school in general. It's killing me. I thought I could handle it. Next year, I'm laying off a bit because its horrible. So much work on a nightly basis, and I'm behind because i like reading and writing and sleeping and not studying all the time. I like being in clubs. I can't do it all, though. But I can't give it up. Lose-lose situation.

Maybe more later, back to studying for a good two hours.

This

Is a poem about wanting, and of finding what you've been looking for.

Sometimes, life is
a dark room.
Nothing is clear, nothing
is real. Not even you.
Not dragged down,
liable to float and drift.
Reaching out, but afraid of
finding, of wanting.
Because wanting leads
to suffering,
a pain you can't ignore.
But when you reach,
and you grasp,
it doesn't seem to matter
anymore.

(You are Beautiful.)

(Pass it on.)

Wouldn't it just make your day if someone told you "You look nice today" or "That's awesome!" ? Compliments aren't given nearly enough. I mean, I guess they are given. But if you have something nice to say, say it. Because chances are, it will make someone's day. Sometimes it makes mine :).

A Fine Mess
is what it has become.
No beginning, no end
in sight.
Tangled web of silken
thread.
Fine and gossamer,
but strangely unbreakable.
Why have I let this happen?
Slick myself slippery
and slide free.
Run away, and try
not to look back.
But a quick glance
can't hurt.
Can it?


Homework doesn't seem quite so bad anymore. It's just... something to pass time. Plus, I'm learning. I want to learn. But also, I'm in love with putting it off, because I keep thinking I'd much rather be reading, or sculpting with my clay, or replying to a letter or a note. I'd rather be dancing in the midst of a crowd, not caring about anything but the moment. I'd rather be lost in my words, an endless maze. I'd rather already know. But since I don't... homework it is.

I challenge you all to give somebody a compliment. Maybe they'll pass it on.

Do you, do you wanna lose it all?

Dance hall drug, Boys Like Girls. Oh yes, I'm hitting it old school on music tonight. Just letting my Ipod shuffle through all my songs.

Today started out average, got worse, and then tonight I was going downstairs for a bowl of watermelon and then BAM I had mail! A six page letter! I was seriously jumping for joy because I got this letter. Oh, my goodness. I love when things turn from horrible, working-on-homework-until-eleven-at-night to Yes-I-just-got-a-letter-and-that-makes-everything-better. :)

Streetlights line the road,
but there are spots of darkness.
Silhouettes in the shadows of the night.
Undefined.
Step into the light;
Illuminate yourself
from the inside out.
Because, sometime,
the morning will come.



Hmm. A happy poem. Could it be?! Yes.

Eyes

Open.
Straining to find
the middle ground
between life
and death.
Sweet sleep.
Thoughts cluttering
your mind,
tracing paths in the open
air above your head.
Colliding, loudly.
Keeping you from sleep.
Keeping you away.
Close your eyes
in hopes of falling.

Oh...

I know what you might be thinking. Two post in one night, what a loser! But really, I was just hit with the extreme need to let something out.

I miss my friends. This sounds really silly, because I'm not away from home or anything. But... lately I've been growing distant from my friends. I hate it! All the friends I was soooo close with two summers ago, I'm barely even friends with now. And new friends? Yeah, I guess. But I need to reconnect with old friends. Because I know that if I don't now, I'll never be able to again. And that makes me want to cry. I want things back the way they used to be. I want things the way they're supposed to be. Some things I wish I could erase, some things I wish I had tried harder at. You can't change the past, but the future is yours. And I'm going to make this future mine :)

These violent delights

Have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume." -Romeo and Juliet

What a day. Not really. Seeing as it was the sunday before a big AP world history test, there was study group to get our charts done, and to generally prepare for the test. Same old, same old. I should study really hard, because I want an A really bad. Silly, I guess, but still.

Aujourd'hui, j'etudier pour francais, parce-que j'ai un interro de la porte demain.

"you're tripping over what is wrong and right" Autumn, Sparks the Rescue.

You know how people say they'll always be there for you? Well, I don't really believe that anymore. Because it's so hard to reach out to people who say they're there for you, if they don't reach out to you, too. I can't always be the one reaching, can I? Sooner or later, people will have to reach for me, too. And I'll always reach towards them, too. So why does it feel like sometimes, I'm reaching into empty space?

Inspired by Acton (an art exhibit at the IMA museum)
The illusion of having
of wanting, of owning
something quickly dispels,
and your hand finds nothing.
Reaching out in the dark,
the last step on a staircase
Not there in the dark.
A sickening thud
of something you thought
to be real
no longer there.
Blank

Shine

"I can't get you off my mind, because you shine girl, oh I know you shine" -The Morning Of-

I noticed that I post a lot more poems than actual recounts of my day. Well, I do love poetry, so today Ive decided to do both.

Okay, so last night World Connections Club (which I'm in) took a ten mile bike ride to Broadripple, then biked ten back. My friend spent the night with me, and we got up in the moring and biked (ouch, my butt!) to El Camino for lunch, then Yogi for frozen yogurt. Then, the best part, we went to my friends' soccer game (biking again, ouch, and ouch!) and cheered like crazy. You know those cheers for football? Like: "I. I believe. I believe that. I believe that we. I believe that we will win, I believe that we will win, I believe that we will win!" with stomping and jumping on the last part. Also, the best: "Form banana, form form banana. Peel banana, peel peel banana. Go bananas! Go, go banana! Form the orange, form form the orange. Peel the orange, peel peel the orange. Squeeze the orange, squeeze squeeze the orange! Form the (insert opposing teams name here). Form, form the blue team. Skin the blue team, skin, skin the blue team. Stomp the blue team, STOMP STOMP the blue team!" It has hand motions and such too. I think my friends appreciated it. :)

then we went to mama bears, and eventually back home. But i loved it. I spent so much time with my friends today, and it was the best ever! I love weekend.

Now, possibly a poem. Which reminds me of the poems i have to do for Bio. Huh. anyway.

What I would do,
to tell someone
all my secrets.
To cry all night,
and never run out
of tears.
To count all the stars
while laying next
to you.
To grow wings
and simply fly away.
To have my wishes
all come true.
To dance in the rain
and laugh when
I'm wet.
To spin in circles
until I fall down.
To really learn
to live my life.


ehhh.... I dont really like that poem. but then again, it wasnt really planned. it was just what I want...

Where the Sky Meets the Earth

The woods,
blanketed in snow.
Pieces of the sky,
sitting on the earth,
mixing.
The trees, bare
but for a dusting
of frost, a gift
from the winter.

I walk alone
through these woods,
far from civility
and the rules that
bind me.
Here, in this magical
place, where Sky meets
Earth, I can imagine
that I am free.

Footsteps mark my
path here, so I
know how to get
back. But
what If I would
like to
stay? Erase my
steps, my ties to
that place, and
stay in my woods,
a palace where Sky
greets Earth.

The darkness will
fall, and with it
bring new light.
Casting shadows,
the snow turns
pink. The Sky is
bleeding, colouring
my realm in
shades of nature.
Where the Sky
welcomes the Earth.

The wind whispers
secrets that none
should know. But
I do. I do.
The birds call
promises to the
darkening Sky.
I will, I will.
In my hideaway
Where Earth
merges with Sky.

New Sky falls,
filling in footsteps
as life goes on.
I stand and watch
as the prints I
have made are
washed away.
Do I want to go back?
Could I find my way?
Or do I stay forevermore
were the Sky
reaches to touch
The Earth.

tears of sadness,
a loss indeed.
My only claim to this
place, my footsteps, gone
in a moment. Can I
go back?
Through the trees
and Sky and Earth,
I tread, back
to my home,
where the wondrous
palace of Earth and
Sky and Sky and Earth
will be a lovely
memory.

Drop Down

into a well of
black feeling.
Anger swells,
a tidal wave.
Sadness pulls,
ripping at the ties
you have forged
to happiness.
Some days,
riding high.
Others, plunged so
far below, you
don't want to recover.
You want to
sink deeper,
until you fade
away. Until
you can't go
further, and you're
never coming
back.
Let me pull you out.

Aching

Smile, go on
Force it. A laugh here
A tease there.
Now don't you look happy?

A sick approximation.
A terrible flaw.
I know things
You're not happy
Are you?

Smiles in the lips,
tears in the eyes.
Bruises hidden
beneath.
Keep pretending

Act like you have
no clue.
Live it up, you're
loved. But you have
your boundaries,
right?

Fill your head with
air, no room lefrt
to think of
those bruises.
None at all.

---This is a poem I wrote just last night. No, not about me of course. But do you ever find yourself sinking? Falling down further and further, but all you need is a tug out? Sometimes you have to tug yourself out. Not too easy.
School has got me down. I have so much homework, it seems to all be crashing around me. For some reason, I always imagine a wall of my books and homework, just falling on me, and I can't move out of the way.... but all I really need is some down time. Read a book, write a poem. A happy one, perhaps? We shall see.
Life can only get better from here, right?

A

Lone.
Silently creeping
into hearts; stomachs.
Slithering ice hot
fingers to each bone. Chilled.
The well of tears
never runs dry.
It strikes, like
as summer storm.
Strong, heedless, and leaves you
powerless. Always hovering.
Clear your mind,
forget all of it.
Not easy enough.
Not nearly easy enough.
Alone, you fade
a
w
a
y

Goodbye

I was thinking about it, dork that I am, as I was watching iCarly. How could you begin to say goodbye to the life youve built? A home, a room, a niche, so to speak. A place where you feel as if you sometimes belong. Where you can ask a room full of people for a ride home, and have people offer to drive you, if you needed it. Where you know your way around the town. My teacher today said "some of you may be counting the minutes until you get out of here. My friend up in Chicago wants to leave Chicago, too. Because you know your way around. You know?" And I did. How many times have I dreamed of getting out of Indy? Of moving somewhere else, and getting to start over. Why would I want to start over me? I mean, of course I know the appeal. But the more I think about it, were I at boarding school right now, I doubt that I'd be adjusted. I'd be homesick and crying for my mom and dad and friends and good old school. Maybe. As much as I wish I were rich and couldve gone, a part of me is happy that I didnt, because I want my high school years to be surrounded by friends that know me and love me all the same.

For some reason, all I want to do right now is cry. Maybe its because I don't know how to get together with old friends. I've missed so much. In some cases, I think we can catch up. In others.... I don't even know anymore. Maybe it's the fact that my fingers hurt from cello and typing. Or, that besides near constant homework work, I'm behind in some classes. Or maybe I just need to cry because my head is full of thoughts, and I just want to forget some things. But it's harder and harder. In some respects, I'm done.

And a run to the mailbox to mail a letter might have been just what I needed.

Chapter One

Breathe, I told myself again. Just let the air OUT of your lungs, and you'll be fine. Oh, no, I was not. Okay, okay. Making amends, I was better than fine. I was standing in front of what had to be the most perfect high school ever. If high school could actually be good.

See, two months earlier, I'd gotten a letter that informed me that I was to be on my way to Starway Art Academy. As in, perfect for me. But I hadn't applied, and yet here I was, loaded up with a full scholarship and my bags in hands, ready to start my freshman year of high school off right. At art school.

I stared up at the majestic school building. It was everything that one could imagine about a boarding school; The stone walls that reached higher than seemed possible. Sprawling green lawns with students milling around, and the castle-like appearance characteristic to all boarding school fantasies since Harry Potter.

I grabbed my bags and start towards the front office. I hadn't been able to fly out for the tour, so I was there a day before classes started to become acquainted with the school. So, there were minimal students there and I was free to wander around all day with a guide. Huh, what a contradictory statement. I gripped my bags harder and walked into the school.

Surprisingly well lit for the grand appearance, it was welcomingly cool. The front office was straight ahead, and the doors were contemporary glass, just as it had been at my old school. I walked in and the lady at the desk glanced up at me. She had the longest fingernails I had ever seen, pink and dangerous. I tried not to stare too much as I made my way up.

"Um, excuse me. I'm Jilla Camberry and I'm here for my schedule and room assignment." I looked away from those killer nails again.

"Yes, I have you right here, Jilla. I hope that you enjoy Starway, and welcome! Your roommate is Melody Barker and she's already up in your room. Ask her if you have any questions, because she was here for orientation. She's a freshman, just like you, so you might have some classes together. Your room is on the third floor. Elevator is on the left. Welcome to Starway!" She punctuated this with a smile and a wave of her killer-nailed hand. I half-smiled and took the schedule and papers from her. Before she looked down, I noticed that around her pupils is a strange sort of light. Almost as though her pupils were set back from the rest of her iris... I blinked and dragged myself and my things out the door to the elevator.

(obviously not the end of chapter one, and not the best writing I've ever done, but it's all I can hope to type at the moment. To be continued...)

Motivation

so I lied, anna. Your letter is still sitting on my desk becaue I'm forgetful. It's written. Hurry! Soon, it'll go out of date.

I noticed that many of my titles are song titles or song lyrics. This is because I love all forms of art. I love writing, I play cello, I love clay, wire, and printmaking, and was in the school play last year. Art is me :). Music, j'adore!

Words are immortal. Think on that a moment. Thats why I want to write. Words are immortal, and if they never die, neither does your soul. tee hee, that was cheesy.

Art is my relief. From homework, from life, from stress. Art is my escape where I can imagine anything and everything to make and mold with my own hands. Art is where I can be who I want, and shove all false pretenses to the side to just let myself be. When I'm sad, are helps me to calm down. When life seems to much, I grab my sketchbook to scrawl something happy down. A tree, which are always symbolic to me because they are growth. They are natural and pure and beautiful and are the essence of life. Art helps me breathe.

Running

Today, it was a normal day at school. Well, somewhat. Is anything ever normal? Anyhow, I went home and did homework until about eight, when i pretty much got sick of it all. I decided to go for a run. Like, an actual run. I used to think I couldn't do it alone. Like, I needed someone to run with to actually motivate myself to keep going. I was wrong. I ran about, say, three miles? And all by myself, it felt like I was the only one in the entire world, just me and my breath and my steps. It was amazing. Just thought I should share that.

Anna, I am mailing your letter tomorrow, I promise! Its all written and stamped and stuff. Yay!

Unforgettable.

You know those moments that are unforgettable? Your first anything, possibly. Good example would be your first kiss. First makeout, along those lines. Sometimes, though, you just want to forget. The tears rip down your cheeks, and your eyes sting whenever you think about it. Maybe its just me, but last night I laid in my bed and cried because I wanted to forget. I wondered what life would be like without our having met. I didn't want to feel sad every time I thought about it. I didn't want any of that. Is that what heartbreak is? Is that what I'll feel every time something good ends? I don't want it to be. I don't want to cry whenever something good ends. I dont want there to be ENDS. But that's life. C'est la vie.

Pounding Head

to match
pounding heart.
sweaty palms,
jittery.
Nervous?
Of what, may I
inquire? Or rather,
can I guess.
Each second marks
a steady pounding
of head and heart
and blood,
synced in rhythm.
Sweaty-palmed
hand grip,
waiting; waiting.
Are you going,
going, gone?
Please don't leave.

Lend Me A Hand

I've been studying for my first AP test! Yes, that's right. AP. As in, college level. oh, shoot me now. But I'm on break to get on my much loved computer. I swear, I can type faster than write these days. Well, that's an exaggeration, seeing as I make more mistakes when I type. Anywho. These last few days have been, well, sort of hectic and making me ponder some things in my life. I won't name names, though. Even though not many people read this (aka, like none) I don't want to get too too personal.

Shoutout to my lovely Anna Banana: Don't worry about writing back late! If I'd gotten your letter last week, I would be writing back late, too. School is stressfull. Don't worry, Anna, I still love you :). I seriously miss you and I think that you NEED to come to Indy sometime soon, like, tomorrow preferably. But if not, letters are good enough, even if theyre slow, they are so much more special than email. None of the past few posts have been about you, dear. Not the bad ones, anyway....

I'm reading a new book (surprise, surprise!) and it's about (somewhat) internet dating. Internet dating is stupid. Sorry. I mean, for our age. That being teens. Adults are more responsible and can get themselves out of sticky situations. Kids? Not so much. I would never give my address to a kid I didn't know.

Tomorrow is my daddy's birthday. I wrote him a poem:

Forever

Warm night,
Stars sparkle a shade
of contentment.
Soft grass beneath
bare toes.
Tilt your head back
to see the night;
Lift your arms,
In hopes of taking flight.
Let the air rush
over you.
Do you feel
Like forever?

Calm Your Nerves Now, Don't Worry

You had your chance. In fact, I gave you plenty. But you have a shield up, don't you? It's some kind of wall that you put up, for me to tear down. I get a brick, maybe two. But it just goes back up. I don't know what else to do. I'd give you everything, but I've got nothing left. Just me. But you won't take that, either. Will you?

Hate Me

You can talk to me,
you always could.
But instead, you sit,
locked away in your room.
Do you bleed often now?
More often than before,
When you did talk to me?
Do you ever cry.

You can talk to me,
but you shy away.
Bury yourself in a wall
of harsh words and
loud music, plugged in.
You hide away
to see who will take down
the wall.

You can talk to me,
but I don't think you ever will.
You compare yourself to me.
Am I perfect, in your eyes?
Am I better than you?
Don't compare us.
I am not you,
talk to me.

You can talk to me,
I want to scream it in your face.
Take away the blades
and slide the shield away.
Let me in,
Open the doors.
I'm begging you.
Don't let us slip away.

You need to come home, my skeleton

This world is amazing. Don't you just want to live it all? See a sunrise and a sunset in one sitting. Talk about everything and nothing all night long. See the sky, and the grass and the trees and the colour of flowers not yet bloomed and the sky at twilight, when the world is blue for a moment. I sit and think and I want to see it all, and it makes me sad that I might not be able to. I want to do everything worth doing. I want to BE. For some people, life might not be worth it. For me, it will be. I will make it worth living. Its hard for me to understand that some lives are not worth living, because if you want to, you can make life better than what you dreamed it could be. Life is worth living. Let's get living :)

Come, closer

Hands shaking
ans you run them
over and over agian,
through your hair.
Frantic fingers
tracing labyrinths.
Scattered thought
running rounds
inside your head.
Scream, go on.
Let it out.
Whisper words,
frenzied fingers,
tangled thoughts.
Release yourself,
come to me.

Breakdown, baby

Have you ever had a pretty decent day, nothing major going wrong, and then BAM just one thing happens that sends you over the edge into a fit of crying? Just one little thing, something small, makes you want to cry for no good reason. Maybe it's school stress. Or maybe just delayed reaction from some not-so-nice things this weekend. Whatever the cause, I had a little bit of a mental breakdown, but I'm all better now.

This weekend, I did a photoshoot with my sister. "photoshoot" being a really loose term for it. Its more of... let's go to that abandoned house and take some awesome pictures :). Anywho. The theme this week was mental illnesses. I got to hang myself, me schizo, and have painted hands wrapped around my neck for being strangled. Fun, huh? Don't you worry, its totally safe. Flickr.com/nevershoutver. Check it out and I'm sure she'd appreciate comments.

My school stress is just yet beginning. I had a pile of homework this weekend. French quiz tuesday or Mardi, biology lab to design by myself, finding things for my wire sculpture in art, honors algebra 2 quiz tuesday and homework, AP world reading and map, and minimal english. Oh, did I mention all honors? Wow, am I a complainer or what? I should enjoy high school, which I do find I enjoy. :) sorry, only deep thoughts from now on.

Anna Banana. Find time to blog, puh lease. And write me back. Writing me back comes first :)

Fly, Fly Away

There once was a little girl
and she wished she could fly
Up, up, through the clouds
on little butterfly wings.
She told her mother
and she smiled
and patted her head

There once was a teenage girl
and she wished she could fly
to above to clouds
on fragile moth's wings.
She told her boyfriend
and he laughed
and took her hand.

There once was a woman
and she wished she could fly
to where the weather is always beautiful
on sleek sparrow's wings.
She didn't tell anybody
and she smiled to herself
and kept wishing.

There once was an old woman
and she wished she could fly
and never stop again
on simple raven's wings.
And she told them
and they scattered her ashes
and, finally, she soared.

--------------
Today was my second day of high school. Not bad, not amazing. Its... school. It truthfully doesn't feel that different, but the work is already harder. Well, if not harder, there IS already work. I'm not a freak, i promise, but i enjoy having something to DO outside of... nothing. I dislike being bored, and if i do homework, i feel accomplished and like i really learned something. And after that, I curl up with a book or something and relax. School makes me appreciate relaxing time so much more. Over the summer, I really disliked having 'free' time. it was basically code for 'I have nothing to do, so I'll put off summer reading.' Now, homework first, then I get to have some fun. I love it! Well, love is too strong a word. But anyway.
Thought of the day: would you rather live, really live, for one lifetime, or live forever?

Hush, you're colouring my eyes red

Sitting in my room (newly rearranged!) and listening to my Ipod on shuffle. If you know what song the title is refferring to, go you! Because that song is amazing. Tomorrow is my first day of the scary high school. I am somewhat worried, even though I know I have no real reason to be. If I get lost, the school is full of nice people who I can ask. I mean, really. Its not THAT hard. But I am feeling slightly ill about all the hard classes I decided to take. I have my summer projects done and in my backpack, and also we went school shopping today. I have new items in my closet. But I can't help feeling that I might not think its as great as other people say it is, and it will be four years of hell for me. I doubt it but y0u never know. And it doesn't help that I have no clue what to wear. How trivial and petty are my problems? And yet... It doesn't do to say that people elsewhere have bigger problems. I know that they do. But that doesn't go to say that my own little problems don't matter to me, now does it?
Anywho, wish me luck tomorrow!
oh, and Anna... did you get my letter yet? Just wondering :)

Things to Consider

Today's topic of conversation: cutting. Now, before you judge and say its a touchy subject, I know. But I think that I have something to say. First, no, I do not cut. But I am reading a book about a girl who does. The book is called Willow, and it is by Julia Hoban. It is a very good book, and do not be deterred by the subject matter.
Now, I personally think that cutting is horrible. Sorry if this offends people, but I'm simply putting my opinion out there. It's easier to bleed than to face what made you bleed, no? It is sort of.... avoidance of what is really the problem at hand. I have written a lot of poetry on the subject, just because it is a strong emotion and I find it interesting to explore.
The people that do cut and try to find help, namely To Write Love On Her Arms, are very brave. Telling someone something like that is very brave and I applaud those who do, and urge those who haven't to look for help. Maybe even want to stop.
This is purely a random post, sparked by thoughts in the car today, on the way to IKEA. I think that it is sad that so many people in my generation cut themselves or otherwise harm themselves, and I have to wonder if people long before our time did this to themselves or not. Are we the only generation that uses pain as a way to feel? Is this another hint that we are growing increasingly lazy and sloth-like? Or is it simply that the world is becoming darker, more sinister, and we can no longer take it? Whatever the reason, it makes me sad. Thank you. Please share your thoughts with me, if you feel the need. I'd like to know other opinions on the subject.

Princesses!

My friend and I had a Disney Princess Movie Marathon. We watched Mulan, The Little Mermaid (my personal favorite), Pocahontas, and Beauty and the Beast. We stayed up until like two, and then went to bed because the next day was the water park! We stayed a long, good day at the park and then I got dropped off back at home. Anyway. I had something to say about the Disney movies.
One, I love how they are all different nationalities. Like, Mulan is Chinese, Pocahontas is Native American (or Indian, whichever you prefer), and Belle is French. Ariel is... a mermaid. Oh how many little girl days I spent wishing I were a mermaid and could just swim forever, while Ariel wished to be where the people were.... Maybe that's why I became a swimmer. I feel so natural in water. Its a wonderful feeling. Also, I feel at ease when I'm writing something beautiful or meaningful or (hopefully) both. Its... an amazing feeling.
Today I also went to a party with just a few of my friends, and it was really fun. A few of my friends and I went in to eat some pickles (yes, literally, get your mind out of the gutter if you were thinking that!) and when we came out, our friends were yelling "Hurry, run, Kevin's suffocating!" and we all blew it off as a joke, because we were only gone maybe five minutes, and Kevin was just fine before. But, as we approached, he was in fact on the ground, sort of gasping. His hood of his sweatshirt had been tied around his face, with a really tight knot for a pretty long period of time, and he literally could not breathe anymore. Luckily for him, another friend, Matt, is really good at untying knots and saved Kevin's life. We were just messing around (well, we not including me, so they) when he couldn't breathe anymore and it was really just innocent play. But think how scary that must have been! Breath stolen... none able to get through. It makes me sick to my stomach to think of it. Just remember next time you fool around... its not always fun and games. Also, sorry to be so morbid. It really was fun party :)

New and Improved

Today, I got a new computer! Well, computer is a loose term. Technically, its a netbook and it is TINY. Ten inch screen and its only like two pounds. It is the cutest thing ever! It arrived today in a little box and I unwrapped it and its soooo pretty too. And a major improvement over my last, broken computer. Smaller, but the keyboard is a nice size. No more typos than usual. That is pretty much all I had to say, because until I get all my old computer stuff onto this computer, I dont have much time to blog. Well, I do. But I dont have much to say. :)

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky was one of my sole purchases in Paris, and I bought it as an impulse buy from Shakespeare Book Company. I have to say, I had my doubts about it, because I just climbed the book ladder (which made me super excited, I've always wanted to!) and plucked it from the shelf. I finished it in two days in Paris, which is a big accomplishment, seeing as we were not in the apartment too long each day. This book has everything. Love, lust, drugs, abuse, friend issues, person issues. It really is just that great. It's about a kid, Charlie, making his way through his first year of high school. He learns to participate in life instead of standing on the sidelines.

Losing something is never fun. But regaining what you thought lost? Its amazing. Like losing touch with a friend and then you get back together and its so great because you never imagined it could be like this again. But it is. I just wonder if I've already lost it once, will it be that much easier to lose in the future? I hope not. I really hope not.

Flour?

Well, I am sitting down after a nice shower. I finally got all the flour out of my hair! I am so proud, it's not even funny. That's right, flour. As in, bread baking flour. We bought a bag and threw it at each other. I was coated head to toe. A few hours later, I still had flour stuck all over me. Good times.

School is closing in, with only eight days until it begins again. I got a backpack :) Also, I am very close to finishing summer reading. So, my mental prep for school is well on its way. Getting up early? Not a problem. School work? Well, let's hope not.

I've thought alot about growing up lately. Growing old, growing apart, growing taller, growing growing growing. Growing old I can handle, even though being stooped and wrinkled scares me. Growing apart is really hard. There's nothing you can really do to stop it from happening. One day you might be best friends, the next it seems like you don't talk anymore, and when you do, it's strained. But it's a part of 'growing up'. I just want to know that I can make it through. I might emerge from 'growing up' with a few scars and more than a few bruises and heartaches but without it, where would I be? In Great Expectations, Miss Havisham taught Estella not to love, so she would never get her heart broken. But now, she has no heart. So which is worse?

Can You Keep a Secret?

Can I tell you a secret?
she whispered late at night.
you nodded and smiled.
she faltered; stopped.
Did you let her?
Did you even wonder?
Can I tell you a secret?
She never asked again.

With no one left to tell,
she sat all alone
and told herself,
again and again
she told herself.
Spelled it out upon the floor
in blood, and
with no one left to tell,
she grew silent.

Are you aware?
You could have listened.
You could have helped.
Instead, one day,
you will discover. Scars.
How many could you have stopped?
Maybe bloodied, she will tell
but it will be much too late.
Are you aware?
You should have asked.

Take My Hand

All morning I sat at my desk and carved away. This is the final product, enjoy :).

Real

The sky is bleeding again.
The earth is drinking;
greedily slurping.
Fingers reach up,
drawing away bloodied.
Beneath the earth,
something writhes
in the sky's earth.
Shades of hurt,
colouring the horizon.
The sky is bleeding again
and down, down it drips.
Readily soaking
our fingers that
eagerly reach up
towards the end.

All Nighter

Yes! I pulled an all nighter! Check that off my list. Ooh, and also "sing at the top of my lungs" because I did that at What Happens in Vegas... So yay, two down. Now, let me tell you about this epic all nighter....

We went and saw The Proposal at something around six, and after the movie was over, we all hung out at the theater until about ten thirty, and didn't get home until eleven, about. Then, I have no idea what we did until one, which is when we were going to watch a movie. But there was no junk food! You need junk food for a movie. So her mom (her mom is so sweet!) took us to Meijer at one in the morning for junk food and butter. Butter for her, because she claimed she needed it. Hah. Anyway, we got back and watched the movie, and that was over at about three thirty. I was still pretty awake, so we were talking and my friend goes "Hey, you guys want to fork Kendra's yard? She forked mine yesterday! Payback!" So obviously, I went along. Forking a yard is when you take alot of plastic forks and stick them prong side up in the yard. It looks awesome and it's a pain to clean up, Ive heard. Also, we maxi-padded the front steps. Thats when you take some pads and stick them all over and pour ketchup on them. And we went a little crazy with the ketchup, because we trailed it all the way down the walkway and it was a big mess. I'll put pictures up later. But that took about until four thirty ish. Then. Yes, there is more! We all three got some sidewalk chalk to go write stuff in our friends driveway. On the way there, we noticed this car. Oh, it looked empty. Then, we heard a cough. Not us. I swear, my heart nearly popped out of my chest! We kept walking, faster now, and cut through back yards and everything to avoid the car (and, though I didn't see anyone, Halle claims to have seen a guy with a beer belly and knee high socks walking behind us). We sprinted back and it was such a thrill. It was scary, but don't we secretly like scary things? It was the kind of thing you only picture happening in books or TV, but it actually happened to us! It was such a rush and so fun, actually. After that, it was almost five thirty and we read notes until like six thirty and then Syd and I stayed up talking until about seven. My all nighter was complete!

This morning I got home and I had a letter waiting for me! I screamed and jumped around, I was so excited. I am writing back right now! I promise!

500 Days of Summer

Today, I did many things. Shall I make a list? I do enjoy lists!

• Bought Strap Perfect (!) with my friend
• Visited an abandoned house
• ate at Yogi
• saw 500 Days of Summer

Thats not really ALL I did today, but they were some highlights. The strap perfect? Well, we made this list. And its a list of things to do together before we die. One? But something from a TV infomercial. And there it was. Strap Perfect! And I was so excited all day. Because they work! I understand now why people buy those things off of TV. It the excitement of getting something that you haven't yet tried and when you get it and it works, it's amazing because you kind of want to shout to the world that it works, and its not as useless as some people say it is. Because guess what? You couldn't see my bra straps all day!

The abandoned house is what it is. Beautiful, and ruined. And there is all that is needed to be said.

Yogi is a frozen yogurt place near my friends house. Also amazing.

And 500 Days of Summer. A movie, for those of you who are not familiar. (all three of my followers, tee hee). Anyway. It was a really great movie, in my opinion. The first part said "This movie is a work of fiction and the characters were not based off of real people, living or dead" and then "Except you, Jenny Whateverherlastnamewas" and then "Bitch." I laughed so hard. Maybe its an on-screen moment type thing where you have to see it to laugh but it was just funny to me because it was obviously a joke and we need things like that in our lives. The movie wasn't about finding love or anything. It was about the journey of life and all the turns it takes you through. Life is a journey and we can write the greeting cards to express it or we can be the architect of our own lives. Either way, we're on our own. There was one part, and he was saying how greeting cards are bullshit because if you send a card, why not just say it in person? "hey happy birthday" card, guess we're not hanging out today. We have the words put into our mouths because we are too afraid to say what we mean anymore. How true.

So tell me darling do you wish we'd fall in love.... -Owl City-

I started thinking (which is never a good thing!) and I want my blog to mean something to somebody. Maybe make a difference in just one person's life. Just one. That would make my day or year or maybe even life. If by writing something, I could make a difference for just one person, it would mean the world to me. But for now I'm content with this. Sitting on my bed writing on my blog just because I have something to say.

Worldly? Me?

Have you ever heard of Operation Friendship? Well, its kids from other countries coming to America, staying in peoples' houses. Then, the kids in the families of the houses can go to a different country sometime, too. No, I am not apart of Operation Friendship. My friend is though. So she has a girl from Wales, England staying with her. Today there was an Operation Friendship picnic and my friend could invite two friends to join her, and I got to go! There are eight visiting people from Wales. Talking to them was really awesome because they all have amazing accents, and you start to talk like them after a while! Hopefully I'll get to see all of them again before they leave! It really was an experience.

Goodness. I need to go work on summer reading. five more chapters today? Well... maybe just one poem.

What is home?
"Where the heart is"
Seems meager
constitution for the word.
Is home where you
long for, even if
your are there?
Is home some inane
idea, to make us
believe that we

belong?

Times Have Changed

I was reading through a not-so-old-yet notebook that i brought with me to my Euro-trek this summer and found this.. "We are all liars. It's so much easier to type than it is to say. So none of us say what we mean anymore." How true is that? If you want to say something hard, you'll text the person, or email, or call them. Face to face is just hard these days. Everything is impersonal. Only type what you would say is what I stick to. If I can say it, I can surely type it.

My friend, Anna Banana (no way that too childish!) was talking about the meaning of beautiful. What is beautiful? Something pleasing to the eye? No. Music is beautiful. Words are beautiful. Meanings are beautiful. So is beautiful a standard? Or is it something that exsists only in our own minds? I see things differently than other people may, so in my eyes, a gross old house may be gross to others but very beautiful to me. Yet... that doesn't help in wanting to know what beautiful is. If you know, let me know. I wonder about this.

Silent

No noise, just light

better not to hear
the shouts of pain,
of suffering and woe.
better not to hear
the cries of everyday
tragedies.

Will you stand alone
on a shore at night
and wonder, wonder
of things left untold.
will you be coming,
or will you be leaving?
will you really be
alone?

The water is silent,
fitting.
The sky's light
unfading, but
leaving us in
darkness.
Across the water,
people wish.
Across the water,
a city sleeps.
But you,
you stand alone.

What Happens in Vegas...

Another night, another amazing concert. This summer has been amazing for me. I got to see My Favorite Highway, The Summer Set, Eye Alaska, A Rocket to the Moon and The Cab!!! I have to say, all of those bands are really really good. Even Eye Alaska, which is not really my favorite kind of music. Sort of hip hop rapish but also punk pop. I really had fun though.
Which is why it bothered me that the girls in front of me most of the concert did nothing! They didn't jump around or anything. They took alot of pictures (some of them of themselves) and talked to each other. I just wanted to punch them in the face! Ah!
I want to put some song lyrics up here from a band that I really love, Motion City Soundtrack. I think its beautiful how songs are poetry, too.
It seemed like a dream, a beautiful scream that echoed forever
and made us not afraid to feel a thing
and after it ends, we'll try to be friends
they say that what doesn't kill us makes us who we are

The Future Freaks Me Out

I was sitting today, reading my summer reading book, Great Expectations by Dickens. Which, surprisingly, I enjoy quite a bit. Anyway. Have you ever just sat and though about.... tomorrow? Not the literal tomorrow, not always. I mean the future farther than you can see. Where will you live? What will you be doing? Will you be happy? Sure, you can say what you WANT to be when you grow up. But, what if that doesn't work out? What if you lose your job or never even find one? Will I ever be content to just live in one place? The country is too open, the suburbs too boring, the city to chaotic for me to live in all the time. Maybe I'll travel all the time. But I cant do that. No money, no job, nothing. Maybe I'll open a bookshop. Maybe I'll have to be a teacher or... or a something else. The future scares the shit out of me. How can I plan for years and years ahead if I can't even get a solid idea of next week? How can anyone? My parents did it, didnt they? It is possible. But i wonder if they would be happier if they had done something else with their life. I wonder if they are happy. I wonder if I'll ever be...

Again?

In a corner,
or is it really a corner?
metaphorically speaking I would suppose so
but the tears well up anyway,
dont they?
They want to travel down, down, down
to become one with the earth.
Can I even explain the sadness away?
force the tears back
and wipe away the redness in my eyes.
To clear away what once was
and create a new
'to be'

They Don't Know You Like I Do

summer is nearly over! whatever will we do?! I still have to finish the horrid summer reading. I mean, the books arent bad, but I would like to read them on my own time and without the weird assignments for them. Already I am dreading high school. Ooooh big bad high school. Im not afraid I'll get lost or anything. Im more afraid that Ive overloaded myself and Ill find out that I cant handle it as well as I thought I could.

Don't you ever wonder how life would be if we didnt have cars? Would this global warming thing happen at all? How would we get places? Horse? Or what if there were trains to get everywhere, its more efficient of energy and you can get off at a stop and then walk to wherever. Hmmm...

Shh. It Happens

Last night was the Shh. It Happens tour with (supposed to be) Every Avenue, Cash Cash, Valencia, Sparks the Rescue, and The Morning Light. But shit does happen, so Every Avenue dropped out, I have no clue what happened to The Morning Light, but Phone Calls From Home and Friday Night Fever did play instead. I know that may sound just like a bunch of words thrown together to form band names, but all of those bands are pretty dang amazing. I have a new love for Cash Cash.

So you know how celebrities are supposed to be all... mean? I don't know if you would count band memebers of smaller bands as celebrities, but they are all so NICE! I must have talked to some of them eight times, just because they are real people and fun to talk to. Also get pictures with, tee hee.

Anywho. I completely forgot what this post was going to actually be about other than me ranting about the amazing concert last night. Maybe... something meaningful. Wouldnt that be nice?

oh! I got this sticker and it says "Rescue the Broken; Mend the Broken; Support the Broken; Defend the Broken" and I loved it. Just thought I should let you know :)

These are the moments, arent they?

Arent these moments, the summers and falls and outfits and parties and concerts, the ones we will all remember? Or will they fade to memory and become harder to remember who we were with, what we were doing, or even what happened? Im not sure if Im just babbling or if Im making some sense. But.... I hope that I will remember everything about this summer and my life when I was young and happy and carefree. When I believed I could make an impact on the world. Who knows how long I'll feel this way? Hopefully my entire life, but dreams fade and sometimes, we forget. I think I will always be a kid at heart. I'd like to be, at least. To know the world isn't all bad. Is that how little kids think? I sure hope so.

There is this line in a song that says "What doesn't kill us makes us who we are" and I thought it was really good. Go listen to Motion City Sountrack! But isn't it true..? If you survive, you gain that. and you may try again, or never again, either way. It affected you more than you might realize. Once I fell off my bike really hard. But I got back on the bike, and I still take bike rides. But I am afraid of ditches on the side of the road and get really apprehensive when we have to bike on the road and there's a ditch on the side. But it didnt kill me! Right?

Also.... I know of a house. It's broken down and damaged and left alone. Sometimes I just want to cry for this house. Break down into tears and cry. Have you ever wanted to cry for the world? Think. Somewhere, someone is dieing; someone is having their heart broken; someone is falling in love; someone is getting hurt; a million tears are being cried; too many laughs to count; someone somewhere is being abused; someone is being raped; someone is losing someone. I dont mean to be a downer. But I think sometimes we get wrapped up in our own problems and we need to take the time to think about the world as a whole.

Harry Potter Madness and Post Secrets

Today (technically tomorrow?) is the day of the Harry Potter Six premier. I know some people may be excited for this, but honestly I am less than excited. I am not attending the midnight showing. I will probably be asleep because lately I have been super exhausted. I hope that the movie is decent, though, because if its not I will likely never hear the end of it from the more avid of the harry potter fans in my family. I am the only one who hasnt even read the books in my family (dont shoot me!). I am guilty of having a momentary obsession with Twilight. I'm happily over it, though. Thank goodness.

Today, I was in Borders reading the PostSecret books. If you havent heard of them, go to http://www.PostSecret.com right now and become familiar with the amazingness that is PostSecret. I have always wanted to send one in, and I think that I might just send one one of these days. But as I was chatting with my friend, another sort of barged into the conversation (don't you hate that?) while I was talking about creating a PostSecret and said 'I have a stack of PostSecret under my bed' in an annoyingly smug voice, of course grabbing every bit of attention in the room to her. I dont mean to sound... well, mean, but it bothered me that she did this, because I was having a nice conversation. Have you ever had a friend who likes to take the attention?

Now, because I think that I ramble about myself too much, a bit of flash fiction. Flash fiction is a 'story' by loosely defined terms in 100 words or less. Mine is ten. Enjoy

A sweetly whispered voice in my ear, "It is time."

Paris

Paris Ride

the subway ride seemed

to stretch on and on

the cheery musician begging

for coins I didn't have

and my knees bumping together.

I could be anywhere.

But then-- then!

the tunnel opened to air,

real air, and I saw.

It loomed over us all,

the city, the people,

My thoughts.

I smiled.

I was in Paris.

Keyboard or Pen?

I noticed today that I have a blog, a 'diary' which i call a journal and a writing notebook. Why do i have all of these things? The writing notebook is obvious, because i went to writing camp and its on the go writing for when im not around a computer or internet. Poems, thoughts, lists, tidbits. But.... a diary and a blog? arent they one and the same? Or whatever that expression is. I thought about it. A blog is an online diary that nobody knows who you are (or do they?) and youre supposed to put your feelings and thoughts down and let them be known to the world because what anyone has to say is important. But... I dont want random ( or not so random) people reading about my struggles and shortcomings and every problem, petty or no, in my life. So, the need for a diary and a blog. Sorry if some of you feel like youre being cheated out of my thoughts. Youre not, trust me! I go to my blog more often than my diary, anyway. And I do sort of prefer pen and ink for a first draft of poems so there is not help for that. But... If i enjoy some of my poems enough, I will type them for my blog! And now, good night! It's going to be another early morning....

p.s. Yes, I did take that picture. Yes, I was there :)

How to not go home for nearly two days straight

Yes, I am home again. After being gone since... two oclock two days ago? i got home at like eight... so i was really gone for pretty much two days. How is that possible? Well, hang out with one friend all afternoon and then go to anothers for a sleepover (allnighter try) and then go to the movies with a big group the next day and go to another friends house the rest of the day from that. Get home whenever. That is how you do it! Wow

So, Mine and Akiras all nighter try? It was, sad to say, a failure. We made it until four thirty, fiveish in the morning. And then... ran out of things to do that would actually keep us awake. News flash: TV does not keep you awake. Sorry. In total, we did: Made cookies. Made veggie burgers and ate them. Went on a 'walk'. Dyed her hair. Watched many episodes of Degrassi (my obsession!). Snuck out at about four. Computer time. Talked about everything and anything and nothing at the same time. I'd say it was a pretty good night, wouldnt you?

A thought struck me today. Everyone wants to be what they're not. Dont they? Sometimes I wish I were not me and that i could just fly away. Is that why acting is so fun? You get to be not yourself for a while.