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.