Merry Christmas!

2 down, 4 to go

I apologize for the gap in posts - exams are this week.

Ain't as bad as we all talk it up to be.

I'll have more soon! Promise!

Explanation

I deleted it because I chose to.
I don't want any more questions.

Letter to you

"Don't be fooled by the calendar, there are only as many days in the year as you make use of."

-Charles Richards

Hi, blog.
I forgot your birthday.

I started my blog on November 27th, 2009, and since then, I have done nothing but grow. It's funny to see when I was being a silly teenager, head over heels one day and melodramatic the next. Oh wait, that sounds familiar...
One of the items on my makeshift bucket list - created during my Buried Life obsession - was to keep my blog for a year. Thank you so much to everyone who reads this, whether you have glanced at it once or followed it the entire time. Thank you to those who comment, and thank you to those who don't but reveal themselves - the surprise that someone still keeps up with my ramblings never fails to make my day. Thank you for dealing with my crazy emotional ups and downs and my endless rants about boys, sports, life, whatever.
Anyway, one thing I've learned is that my Tuesday Tellings (for those of you who don't know, that was my weekly secret-revealing) were a mistake. Once I started keeping my personal secrets, I felt more like I had a story. And isn't that what I always wanted?
Speaking of stories, I have made the decision to tell a new person my story. This person has become increasingly more important to me, and I value their opinions and care about them probably more than they realize. I hope they are ready to hear what I have to say.

After all, you were ready, weren't you?

Reveal

Little did you know, your comment made my day.

No,

my entire month.

Thank you.

Stuck, frozen, stopped

So basically this is just me ranting about how I'm sick of stereotypes and cattiness and whatnot.

For a second, she

Hesitates -

Am I beautiful enough?

No, and I'm not smart either.

See that girl,

She walks the

Walk and talks

The talk,

Her skinny legs move without a flaw

And her eyes shine even

First thing in the morning.

No one's

pretty

skinny

smart

good

enough these days

Where we break down everyone else

Just to claw our way up.

We starve

We slave

We run until our legs

Give out

Just to be good enough.

Once, we felt talented,

Now, we feel taunted

Haunted by simple words

That chip

Away

At our core.

She may not be quite as beautiful

Or quite as smart

Or quite as capable,

But she is strong

And she knows what is possible.

Dickinson titles, take 2

I did this for an english assignment and had to analyze it. I really liked it for some reason, so I'm putting it on here. Tell me what you think.


Wild Nights, Wild Nights!
God is a distant, stately Lover –
I cannot live without You.
I’m Nobody! Who are You?
This is my Letter to the world –

Because I could not Stop for Death –
He preached upon “breadth” till it argued Him narrow.
This World is not Conclusion –
There’s a certain Slant of Light.

I dwell in possibility
Because I Could Not stop for death –
My Life had stood – a Loaded Gun –
I never lost as much but twice
Wild nights, wild nights.

This is my letter to the World


I began with “Wild Nights, Wild Nights!” and left it all capitalized to illustrate a title, an opener that would set the scene and leave a reader interested to find out more, like what made the night “wild,” and who is involved? The next line answers ‘the who’ and ‘the why’ – the narrator has a love affair with God, and he is her caretaker. Her life depends on him and his guidance – without Him she is nobody; she has no physical identity to call her own. However, she questions his reliability to save her from her confusion over who she really is. “Nobody” and “You” are capitalized to show names, and to emphasize that the only character with a real name in the poem is God, and that the woman has nothing to call herself. She then says “this is my Letter,” a transition into her retelling of what happened during this wild night.
The narrator could not stop death from approaching. She was losing her physical self because she had already lost all sense of her identity, her mental being. “Stop” and “Death” are both capitalized because they are both out of her control and have more power over her. In the next line, He and Him are the only words capitalized, illustrating her dependence on her lover, and also following the way the Bible describes God. He argues, fights for her freedom from her daily struggles, proving that he is loyal to her and cares for her well-being.
“This World is not Conclusion” – her life does not end here, and the dash placed at the end of the line indicates that there is more to be said. Although she has given in to her death, she will go to heaven and be united with God again. The material world has concluded, but only opens up an entirely new spiritual world. This world is her certain slant in the light of the darkness of the wild night.
“I Could Not stop for death” is said a second time, this time with the emphasis on “could not.” Here the narrator officially admits her surrender, letting the reader know that this is what has happened and that she is no longer resisting. At this point, her life is a loaded gun, ready to release the bullet and fly into her new life on a different side. She “never lost as much but twice,” then “wild nights” is said twice. This stanza contains two repeated lines and words (stop for death and wild nights), both of them said twice. The narrator has two selves, the physical and the mental, and passes from the material world into the second world, which is the spiritual. Even though she has “lost” her life in the body, she moves on to where she will be happier. “Wild nights, wild nights” was an intimate, personal decision for her lover.
And finally, the poem ends in a single line, repeating the last line of the first stanza – “This is my letter to the World”, and this time the emphasis is on letter, not world. We have read her first letter, her explanation, and now we turn the attention to her World, her destination from one of confusion to one of happiness. Similar to Whitman’s poems, the line ends without a period, showing that this is not the end of her story.

Guilty pleasure

There you go making me feel like a kid again.

Dickinson titles

They shut me up in Prose—
I dwell in Possibility—
Because I could not Stop for Death—
My Life had Stood—a Loaded Gun—
I heard a fly buzz—when I died.

There’s a certain slant of Light
The Brain is wider than the sky—
This World is not a Conclusion
Much Madness is divinest sense—
This is my letter to the World—
Tell all the Truth but tell it Slant

Return

You are the best thing

I never asked for.

Going to paradise, see you all in a week.

Light

Ain't it funny how one thing can make your day better?
Things will pass. Things will go on. You will see happiness again, and your hard work will pay off.

Thank you for your help, you have no idea what it means to me.

"It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thank you.

Poker Face

What I should be worrying about instead:

http://www.funlol.com/15926/Mature_people_truths.html

Come save me. Please?

Empty

It's kind of strange that I wrote this before yesterday. But I wrote it, and I feel as though I should share it.

It's funny how we age. We grow older and lines scar our eyes where we once smiled, and as those lines increase, the lines on our brains deepen with things we have learned.
Your arms grow tired of embraces, and your legs grow tired of walking, of searching.
The spaces between your fingers have widened from holding so many others, and your fingers need rest.
It's funny how we learn. How we seemed so young, so innocent, so vulnerable just yesterday, a million chances we have yet to take and thousands of facts we have yet to discover.
With each day, we age, we learn, we survive. The earth has years of stories beneath its ever-changing surface, carved by mountains and rivers, tales that are waiting to be told.
But just because we age does not mean we are old, and just because we learn does not mean we are wise. We are never those qualities in our own eyes, but rather the eyes of others. You are not wise until you are told so, and we are not old until we compare with someone younger.
Age is not about a number, it's about the time you have had to learn. Wisdom is not about the standards of intelligence, it is about the experiences you have had, what you get out of them, and what you choose to do with them.
Intelligence should not be categorized by numbers, but rather your potential to teach.

End

Death is a profound thing. It makes you feel and it makes you numb at the same time. You drive down the road and see the moon, only to realize he will never see the moon again. He will never see his son's game-winning goal or his daughter's tear soaked face as she drapes her body across his. Your heart aches and your mind races but you have no words to say, but nothing comes to your lips except an empty "I'm sorry."
It does not matter how many times you have visited their house or conversations you have had with them, your heart will always be bruised by their absence, an aching to bring them back for the sake of their family.
What were once laughs turn into choked gasps, struggles for air as your heart and mind collide in forming sounds.
Death is a profound thing.

John Hindle, know that although you have not directly impacted my life, your loss has affected hundreds if not thousands around you. Your family has provided some light in my life and know that we will always be thinking of you.

Stumble

"Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.

I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands; how did your lips feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks, the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will do irreparable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires; shooting stars, falling objects."

-Pablo Neruda

There Is So Much More

Dry my tears with your loving hands

The seasons change every year.

It's just something that happens.

Isn't it funny how no one cares?

Blah. I can't write. The end.
This is all I have for you.

A brick wall
That is the only thing in front of me,
Stretching for miles,
No way through, only up and
Over, if I can get myself over.
Suddenly something comes over me
And I swing at the wall,
Hoping to break
And bleed through this barrier.
Gasping for air,
My lungs threatening to collapse
Under my heaving breaths
And tired heart.
There seems to be no escape,
Only left here to perish.
And so you leave me alone to figure it out.

Comprehension

feels like i'm living in silence

i feel like i'm disintegrating

so maybe i'll write something tomorrow

but isn't that what i always say?

Remember

Yeah.

Decision

Just so you know, this week is going to be busy as hell.

I have a lot of prioritizing to do and decision-making to do and research to at least start. Time feels like it's going so slowly and yet I already feel like I'm running out.

Today I was told something I had never heard before. I'm not sure how to interpret it. And it's ironic because it involves separation, which is what my mind is going through right now. Separation of opinions, choices, all of that.

After waiting my whole life to be "grown up" and to finally become a teenager, I honestly don't think I'm ready. I am becoming evermore aware of my dependencies on things, and on people. After wanting to leave home for so long, now all I want to be able to do is just come home.

Home is a strange concept (and now I'm just rambling...). What qualifies as home? Is it allowed to be called a home even if you are not able to go there all the time? Are home and family necessarily directly related? What qualifies as family?

I'm all over the place, my apologies.

Pause

Hi. Sorry I didn't write anything yesterday. And I don't have much to say today except that today was great. A nice breather in the middle of some craziness. I'll write something better tomorrow, promise!

Overwhelmed

I'm a little bit of everything right now. Sick, stressed, alive, tired, happy. Overall, I would say I'm satisfied.

I got what I asked for.

Comedy

I always seem to say the words "isn't it funny" in blog posts. I don't know why, but that always seems to come up. Maybe I'll have some explanation later.

....Isn't it funny how some of us run around as a whirlwind of emotion, up one second and hitting the floor the next? And how we yearn for just a few moments of tranquility, a breather in the middle of this madness.

But once we get this break, we go crazy because this peacefulness is so unfamiliar, and we're itching to return to what is familiar.

I don't really like what society has made of us these days.

I think I have decided what I want to do. But I am too scared to go after it.

Ramblings

As soon as I begin feeling burned out, there are those quiet fighters that will keep you going. When you're in cruise control. you tend to ignore them, their input usually insignificant. But when you need them there, they are there. And that's the best thing you never asked for.

I think it's crazy how fast six months can go by. How can you remain so close with someone for six months? Wouldn't you just grow tired of them, figure out exactly what they would say in response to this or that, know what they would say in response to any random question you might ask?

Nah.

That just makes everything better.

Isn't it funny that I gained and lost faith so many times that I eventually lost faith altogether? But you brought that back, and here we are now, still strong 180+ days later.

You bring light into my life every single day.

Honesty

Jeez. They're not kidding when they say it's going to be the busiest year of your life.

I know, I know - I promised to update daily once school started, blah blah blah. That's not looking too promising. My original goal when I made this blog was to post every day and keep it for a year. Obviously I haven't been able to post daily but I'm still planning on keeping it until its anniversary.

For now, here is my renewed promise to you - although it may not be new writing, I promise to at least post every day. Whether it's a song, a picture, something, I'll try and keep this baby interesting. Deal?

Good.

See you tomorrow.

Farewell

Color

I feel like a lot of writing is....................... sad. And hey, sometimes mine is too. It's how I feel. But I am going to try to make my writing happy, hopeful, inspiring. Or at least, if it has to be sad, make it angry, easy to relate to, and humorous. Throw some good stuff in there I guess.

New York, although I was only there for a few hours, was a breath of fresh air. Although I don't really know if you can call New York air fresh. It was a brief taste of something different. Which apparently is what you need when you are not sure where to go, what to do, who to see.

So yeah. Oh hey and shout out to mah new followers. Thank you! I always enjoy feedback.

It is all a mask, you claim.

Your games are foolish and your life is silly,

All a work of your imagination.

You wear several layers of clothes

Just to protect your skin from the world -

Hiding your fingers with gloves

So you can still recognize their shape,

Watch them move

Before you but feel nothing.

You would never know,

Never even guess how much

You taught me,

Your subconscious lessons engraved in my mind,

Stuck to me

Like your stupid layers,

Unable to remove.

As I walked down this tired road,

Weary with thousands of footprints,

You were suddenly stripped away.

Your layers peeling

Off, leaving my skin cool.

And for the first time in years

I took off

My shoes

And felt the ground beneath my feet.

"The school system was invented by industrialists, and its only function was to train people to work in factories. When you slap on top of it standardized testing and No Child Left Behind, what you are left with is a system optimized for compliance - the opposite of what we need. What we need to teach is how to solve interesting problems." -Seth Godin

Commentary

It's funny that as life goes on, time feels shorter. You have experienced more of it, you have tolerated its crazy mind games and manipulation. It can freeze you in your tracks and it can throw you around like a ragdoll.

"Summer's dead," "summer's over," "school starts soon..." yeah yeah yeah. We know. But school hasn't started yet. Why not live the hell out of your last few days? You are not going to want to look back at your summer and be like "shit, man. I wish we did something fucking crazy those last days."

So hey. Take these last few days, this final weekend, and go have some fun. I'll be in the big apple until late Saturday night or early Sunday morning, hopefully returning with a fresh mind and fresh ideas.

Do what you need to do to live.

Predictable

Spur of the moment

"Tell me something good."

".....we're alive."

Coffee shop romance

I've come to the realization that my life is like a car being steered by a reckless driver; I'm either in cruise control or slamming on the brakes.

My mind's been swimmin',
But it sure feels like I'm drowning.
Please be my life jacket,
Wrap yourself around me and help me float.
Bring me back to shore,
Because in this panic,
I have lost
All sense of direction.
When I stop hearing,
Point out where I can heal.
And when I stop seeing,
Take my hand,
Whisper to me what to do.
And when I go numb,
Sing me a song to bring
Warmth back into my heart.
You can heal me,
But until you start trying,
I'll just sit here slowly falling apart.

Time off

Do you ever find yourself connecting with someone on such a deep level, enough that you swear your thoughts, triumphs, and struggles are all in sync?

But yet, you have never even met this person?

It's crazy what the world does to us these days.

If you're losin your high then smoke again

Future's lookin reeeeeeeeeeeeeal good.

Backbone

Just wanted to say... I'm here for you.

Can you be there for me too?

Reverse psychology

Twisted and turning,
Beginning to run didn't help
'Cause her footsteps only echoed,
Falsely forming the presence of another,
And so in turn
Her heart
Sprinted,
Outrunning her feet
Until it felt like bursting.
She stopped, her chest heaving
Like churning waves, but her mouth
Was as dry
As a desert.
A light flickered, momentarily
Seizing her attention, leaving behind
Her breathing
For a second.
The firefly lit up in front of
The streetlight
And for a moment they were identical,
Illuminated,
In unison,
Together painting a new dimension
Purely of light.
Absorbed in this world,
She shuts her eyes until
She sees spots, hoping that maybe
When she opens them again
She'll be home.
Day opened its young eyes first.
There is no sun, but I can see light on the horizon.

You thought I was kidding, I thought you were stupid.

Walking, wandering, one day in the woods,
Sun spots like you see
In the movies, tracing closely, copying
The path I walked.
An old tree sat there.
Silent and simultaneously telling a thousand tales
With its scarred skin.
Peeling but still alive,
Reeling but at peace,
Feeling but out of touch
From the rest of us.
A ladder, never given life, led a path
Up the tree
But I couldn't see the top,
Craning my head like we did in
New York City, holding hands
And struggling to see
The sky.
But this forest is another kind
Of city,
Disintegrating instead of expanding.

Favor

Hi. I think I owe some apologies!

As you most likely realized, I was gone for two weeks, heading to a place I once loved and thought I was going to feel lost in for the first time, but shortly after arriving I jumped right in and truly experienced the phrase "having the time of my life." And that was primarily thanks to all the wonderful people that I genuinely love now and cannot wait to see again.

So... mmhm. Yeah. Now I am at "home," fully launched into preseason, so needless to say I am a little busy. I wrote a lot today, so that might make up for some of it, but I can't make any guarantees that I will give you something new every day. But I promise promise promise to pick this up more once school starts!

And one last thing - a late happy 8-month birthday to this blog. Nine's coming up soon!

These bittersweet goodbyes they give,
A bad aftertaste in your heart.
But with their hands
And with their hearts
They will catch your tears,
Erase them but still leaving a trace -
A warm scar,
Reminding of you of this place you call home
And now leave behind,
Unsure but hopeful of return.
Your body departs
But your soul will forever stay
With the gently lapping waves
Of the lake,
And the whispers of Mattimuro.
Driving away,
You slip on sunglasses
To soften your stares on what is
Ahead. Your tears have dried
But that scar remains,
Still beating in your heart -
That place looks harsh out there, but you think
To yourself, reminded of next summer -
"I like the way the world looks behind these lenses."

Departure

This morning, I woke up
Feelin brand new and I jumped up
Feelin my highs, and my lows
In my soul, and my goals
Just to stop smokin, and stop drinkin
And I've been thinkin - I've got my reasons
Just to get by, just to get by

I've lost all track of time

You've got me in circles

Hey, my name is Carrie and I have cried ten times

in the past twenty-four hours.

So... the solution? Take me home again.

Where ya gonna go? Salvation is here.

Big Old Life - Philip Martz

It's a big old life in a big old world with plenty of big quandaries. Choosing which gulf stream to follow in a northerly or southerly direction without a big old sign. Without a big old clock to tell the hour, it's a big old guess daily as to when to sleep or eat. The same with the tides that run at cross purposes, causing any number of big old tail swings, including the sight of a big old suitor who comes along to sweep one off one's feet, or push on one's tail. So that returning to the same old beach to make a big old nest,

is no big deal.

I am going to be gone for two weeks, and this is due to a place that I love and people that stand by me. Thank you to them as well for this opportunity, and helping me celebrate.

Thank you as well to my friends, family, and anyone who I have met in the past sixteen years. You have shaped me to be who I am today and I would not be the same without you. I love you so much and would be lost without your undying support.

Sixteen

It's my birthday today!

The People Yes - Carl Sandburg

The people yes
The people will live on.
The learning and blundering people will live on.
They will be tricked and sold and again sold
And go back to the nourishing earth for rootholds,
The people so peculiar in renewal and comeback,
You can't laugh off their capacity to take it.
The mammoth rests between his cyclonic dramas.

The people so often sleepy, weary, enigmatic,
is a vast huddle with many units saying:
"I earn my living.
I make enough to get by
and it takes all my time.
If I had more time
I could do more for myself
and maybe for others.
I could read and study
and talk things over
and find out about things.
It takes time.
I wish I had the time."

The people is a tragic and comic two-face: hero and hoodlum:
phantom and gorilla twisting to moan with a gargoyle mouth:
"They buy me and sell me...it's a game...sometime I'll
break loose..."

Once having marched
Over the margins of animal necessity,
Over the grim line of sheer subsistence
Then man came
To the deeper rituals of his bones,
To the lights lighter than any bones,
To the time for thinking things over,
To the dance, the song, the story,
Or the hours given over to dreaming,
Once having so marched.

Between the finite limitations of the five senses
and the endless yearnings of man for the beyond
the people hold to the humdrum bidding of work and food
while reaching out when it comes their way
for lights beyond the prison of the five senses,
for keepsakes lasting beyond any hunger or death.
This reaching is alive.
The panderers and liars have violated and smutted it.
Yet this reaching is alive yet
for lights and keepsakes.

The people know the salt of the sea
and the strength of the winds
lashing the corners of the earth.
The people take the earth
as a tomb of rest and a cradle of hope.
Who else speaks for the Family of Man?
They are in tune and step
with constellations of universal law.
The people is a polychrome,
a spectrum and a prism
held in a moving monolith,
a console organ of changing themes,
a clavilux of color poems
wherein the sea offers fog
and the fog moves off in rain
and the labrador sunset shortens
to a nocturne of clear stars
serene over the shot spray
of northern lights.

The steel mill sky is alive.
The fire breaks white and zigzag
shot on a gun-metal gloaming.
Man is a long time coming.
Man will yet win.
Brother may yet line up with brother:

This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.
There are men who can't be bought.
The fireborn are at home in fire.
The stars make no noise,
You can't hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?

In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.
In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people
march:
"Where to? what next?"

Order

Hello! A few things to tell all of you:

First off, I apologize for not writing much since I got back. My birthday is on Friday (!!!) and I leave for my job on Saturday for two weeks, and I only got back last Sunday... needless to say, I have had a lot of things to do and a lot of people to see. So sorry if you have been disappointed with the lack of updating here. I assure you this blog is still going!

Second, thank you so much for all the new followers! I started out with just one other reader, and now I know there are other people who can read this and hopefully it makes their day a little better.

Third, I really really do have some pieces of writing and stuff started, I have honestly just been too busy to get anywhere with them. I will try my best to get some done before I leave!

Thank you all again. You are the best!

So close

"You mean the world to me, baby girl."

I keep reading that line over and over.

Home

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better,

you made it a million times better than I could've imagined.

3 weeks.

More later!

Twenty eight

Four weeks left.

Here we go, baby.

Updating just for you.

I miss you.

Thirty-seven

So today I am leaving for about two and a half weeks to go HOME HOME HOME. Finally. Avon. I think we'll have a computer there but I don't know how much I'll be able to update because I'll be distracted by the beautiful ocean. Yayayay! See you all soon.

My Stupid Mouth

Tuesday Tellings, week ?

So I realized yesterday I forgot to post a Tuesday secret - but hey, it's summer, I'm losing track of the days. But anyway, this is my most recent confession; I'm going to hold off on the secrets. You've probably noticed they've been getting boring. They're running out of creativity, and I need some time to think of better ones for you. So this is for your own good... I guess.

Forty days

Seriously, cut your fucking attitude and

come talk to me again when you have some respect.

Thanks.

You hear but you don't listen

(hey hey hey)

Today was one of those days when you have way too much time to yourself and way too much time to think about things. And if you've met me for more than five minutes, you know I overanalzye pretty much everything.
So here's my question for you, some food for thought, the crazy quiz of the day - are you happier when you kind of push away all the negative, not necessarily getting rid of it but simply dismissing it, or are you happier if you just face the negatives, even if it brings you pain or sadness or whatever it might bring?
That's something I was thinking about.
Also, I really didn't want to post today because that means that the last post on this blog would go to the "next" page, and it was one of the poems I have written recently that I genuinely liked. You know, the majority of the time I just write on this. I rant. I don't really care what it says, I just write it and put it out there.

While on my nearly hour-long walk, I thought of a bunch of prompts but haven't managed to put them all together. I'll give you something tomorrow.

Today I felt, in a word..... frazzled.

Keep marching 'til your feet split open.

Illness

Hi. I have a headache.

I could feel each individual blade
Of grass,
Cool, contrasting
With my warm skin,
Which you touched,
Sliding from my toes to my knees
And back again
As you sat behind me, my
Back on your chest and your arms
Barely rested on mine.
Let's pretend we're five again,
Watch the fireworks.
I'll look at you and
Watch them dance in your eyes.
I'll kiss you and
Realize I don't need to open my eyes
To see fireworks.

"big hearts break easily"

Primero

Well he's got another album out, and every song makes me think of you, of course. Any note of violin, a word of Jack's Mannequin and instantly my mind is flooded.

I thought you were worthless, absolutely worthless, you know?

No more important to me than the gum I spat out this morning, no more significant than the daily black coffee, just a routine of making and pouring. You were nothing, you see?

And yet you were everything, absolutely everything.

The reason my grades dropped, 'cause we were texting all the time. The reason I was off coffee, 'cause you gave me a buzz without the caffeine. The reason why when my phone rang a silly love song played. We were so stereotypical, you know that? I started my day with you, a brown paper bag always waiting in my locker with my favorite breakfast, except on Thursdays, but you knew that.

We knew each other's schedules backwards and forwards, and you promised if I ever needed someone, you would be there in a second.

But that was the mistake, can't you see? You were the reason I needed someone, but I had no one because you wanted to keep things a secret. I thought that was cute and mysterious, so I played along.

Yet you were there when I needed you most. And you were the best I could have asked for.

You broke me, but at the same time you shaped me. Your letters sit tucked away, but I know exactly where they are. When you ask how I am doing, you make my day without even trying.

You threw out my letters because we treated each other like shit, but I wish you still had them so you would know how much someone could care about you like I did.

I hope you meant every word, 'cause I was real every second with you.

You gave me everything I wanted, and showed me everything I feared.

You were nothing, absolutely nothing.

You were everything, absolutely everything.

And now you are stuck, and all I want to do is help you, but I don't think you want me to.

"There was this time when everything seemed to have come together. And so obviously it was time to go and screw it up."

Hey, thank you for making me feel though.

Milestone

Post number two hundo, baybeeee.

Unfortunately I was sick today so I couldn't really write. But hey.

200 posts. That's a lot. Thanks to those of you have stuck around, if there even are any of you.

It's been fun.

Tuesday Tellings, week 17

I'm scared you're lying.

I'm scared you're holding back.

But I don't know which one would be scarier if it were true.

I'm not in it to win it, I'm in it for you

I can feel your warmth even over 2,048 miles.

There was the same time
Every day
That the sun came
To rest on the table,
Warming the clear glass,
Coating its wood surface.
One day
I was so sick of this routine
Seeing the same thing
Every day,
So I scratched the glass,
And it made a harsh noise
I swear, I swear.
It echoed with your voice
Still trapped in the room,
Isolated
From everything except
My presence,
Not willing to go anywhere.
Now your voice is gone
But the scratch lingers.

Breaking reflection

I've been staring for far too long.

This mirror not only reflects the obvious -
Dust lingering on the glass,
Doubles so close,
A duplicate world
dlrow etacilpud A
That you can almost touch
All sight, no sound.
Take a picture
And you'll see
The brother flash,
But she won't dare take pictures
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel beautiful enough.
She's been handed so much time to overcome -
Overcome what?
Overcome all those obstacles
That she has left silent,
That she has left in the battlefield for so long,
Left bloody and bruised but certainly still alive.
She just runs by it
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel strong enough.
One day she was running,
The star on the necklace
Her father gave her softly
Hitting her chest
As a reminder
That he is always there
That he is always there
Even if she runs away
'Cause she doesn't feel
She doesn't feel good enough.
She was running
And she halted 'cause there was
There was a stranger standing there quietly,
A stranger who asked a question that froze
Her world momentarily,
A stranger who asked the question,
"Why do you run?"
And she was
Frozen
For just a second,
But she said "to break the mirror.
To step on all the people that made me feel."
Then she kept running.

Response

Love this

Lucky number seven

Seven dollar dinner.
Seven hours in the sun.
Seven weeks left until you come home.
Seven months of blogging as of today.

Strange how time goes by, isn't it?
I've been redundant lately. My apologies.

Yesterday as I stared out the window
I noticed the shadow
Stayed still,
Stagnant,
While everything else flew by.
Trees, insignificant signs, broken
Down cars.
Choose to slow it down
If you will
Unless you're eager to get
To where you want to be.
The scene changes
The location changes
But it is always a destination.

Take notes

Flight.

Learning

I'm learning to approach this.
I'm learning to process this.
I'm learning to accept this.
I'm learning to live with this.
I'm learning to go along with this.
I'm learning to have fun with this.

I'm learning to enjoy this.

This too shall pass

(Persian:این نیز بگذرد, een niz bogzarad, Hebrew: גם זה יעבור, gam zeh yaavor, Turkish: Bu da geçer)

A proverb, indicating that all material conditions, positive or negative, are temporary. The phrase seems to have originated in the writings of the medieval Persian Sufi poets, and is often attached to a fable of a great king who is humbled by the simple words. Some versions of the fable, beginning with that of Attar of Nishapur, add the detail that the phrase is inscribed on a ring, which therefore has the ability to make the happy man sad and the sad man happy.

Continued

Things work out one way or the other; you win or you lose.
And you can't win all the time, you just have to face it.

So here's the poem I promised you:

Since you parked on that corner,
No one has dared
Touch that spot.
It was where you held my hand,
And time seemed to
Stop
While the rain continued
To fall.
3 A.M., and the thunderstorms
Start, not unlike
The night you dropped me off,
Echoing
Echoing
Echoing
The threatening raindrops.
On my bed that sweater
Patiently waited, listened to the old clock's tales.
The article of clothing
Was once a
New gift,
But its fibers
No longer hold your smell,
Instead contain tears
Drying from my tired face
Only to be replenished soon after.
You say
"Don't cry my girl,
I'll be home soon."
But it all seems to be
A misunderstanding.
Your absence,
Their absence,
My absence.

Just because the road looks long doesn't mean there's not an end.

Tuesday Tellings, week 16

Short but sweet this week. That's what you get. Take it or leave it.

I guess my secret is this; I'm vulnerable. Completely vulnerable.

You can build your walls up and up and up...

but eventually they'll be too tall and fall apart.

Purpose

Absence

That's what today was about.

I knew I had a gut feeling of some sort.

But it's not a definite, noticeable absence. It's sudden, incomprehensible absence.

I started to write, but I just couldn't finish.

I'll post it tomorrow, I promise.

Eight weeks

Blah. I'm stuck. I need to get out of this city for a while.
Today I wrote about lies.

Deceit, twisted tales
Spin around your head,
A masterfully crafted story
Finds its way into belief,
Cleverly disguised as truth.
One cannot fathom the manipulation
Until faced with both sides,
An undeniable contrast.
You spit out bullshit, you know that?
Your words almost come out laughing
At their own incredulity,
And by now your silence is comforting.

One

Stumbling into the shower,
I struggle with the knob,
Icy cold water pressing on my skin.
A wave of nausea rushes through my stomach
As the water races down my temples,
Drips over my brow,
And slices vertical lines on my cheeks -
The water blends with my tears,
Uncontrollably falling at the same speed.
Dizziness fills my head,
Vision blurring while tears continue to fall,
Drowning in the fresh steam.
We can't rewind now,
Although the dusty speakers,
Seemingly dormant on the counter,
Begin to play music.
Skipping, a scratched CD,
Spitting out the same words again and again
Until my tears grow tired,
Sick of falling and wanting to rest and forget.
So the speakers are unplugged,
But the dust remains.

I like water.

Fifty-eight

I'm going to miss you.

I'm just scared to know the ending

And so come the final two days.
However, you can't have the better times if you don't have the hard times.


Heat suddenly surrounds her lips.
He passes over them,
Slowly moving to her neck.
Brushing away her hair,
He inhales that familiar scent
Lingering on her skin.
His fingertips graze her bare shoulders,
Simultaneously sending tingles down to her toes.
He toys with the chain around her neck,
A small gold star falling to the middle,
Engraved on the back,
Matching the words on the inside of her ring.
A promise.
She reaches in her pocket,
Each breath completely audible,
And slowly takes out a faded paper,
Torn and frayed from
Dozens of erasing and rereading,
Attempting to find the perfect words.
She silently places the paper
In the center of the boy's open hand,
Lightly brushing the creases
That carve his palm.
This paper contains truths,
A promise,
And a confession.
What she has been too scared to say.
She places a kiss on his cold cheek and walks away without a word.

I think if you wait long enough for all your attempts to fail, you'll finally find the right one after fucking up so many times.

Tuesday Tellings, week 15

Hmm. This might be the weirdest Tuesday Telling yet.

So you know how on Friday I was talking about how unplanned days are the best? Well I was at a grad party and started talking to one of my friends. Neither of us had plans later for the night, so we decided to go hit up the Dollar Movies.
We ended up seeing Clash of the Titans... which leads me to my secret.

Those kinds of lame Greek mythology things, I'm not going to lie - I love that kind of shit. I was still twelve years old when I was begging my friend Jack to loan me his Age of Mythology computer game. And when we read The Odyssey freshman year, it came to be one of my favorite books of all time. I've never been religious, but something about the way the Greeks used to think fascinates me.

So... yeah. I'm a huge nerd. I know it.

Broken, but temporarily repaired

I'll take it though.

I don't know, maybe I should have trusted my gut. Although how much would that have changed?

Things are really confusing for me right now. I have a million ideas and things to write about but no time to really sit down and do it.

I'll try to take some time tonight, and give you some writing tomorrow.

P.S. this week's Sunday Secrets kicked ass.

P.P.S. I bought "Champion" by Kanye West as my new ringtone. I can't wait for people to call me. Especially when I'm in public.

About to break

Do you ever feel like punching someone straight in the face,

crying for a bit, then sleeping for the next two months?

I do.

Do you ever feel like this is the moment when you will begin to question absolutely everything?

I do.

Do you ever feel like what you worked so incredibly hard for is

not paying off whatsoever?

I do.

Do you ever feel like making the choice to follow your heart was the wrong one?

I do.

Failure? No. My fault? It's a possibility. Will it get better? We'll see.

I hope so.

I can't wait to go back to Avon

so I can forget.

Spontaneity

Unplanned days are the best.
Just get an idea and go with it.

"Do whatever you want,

who gives a shit?

Rob a bank, stop eating;

go out and change the world

or burn your house to the ground.

Throw your hands in the air

because you just do not care!

For god's sake,

breathe that fucking air and live your life."

Donedonedonedonesummerrr

You know how you meet those people, fall in love with them, and never see them again?
Well that happened to me today.

I went for a run, minding my own business and in the running mindset. I passed a man, running in the opposite direction, we passed each other and exchanged a smile.
About a mile later, I got a pretty bad cramp in my side and had to stop and walk. After a few feet of walking, I hear someone behind me ask, "not feeling too well today?"
It was the same man I passed before.
He wasn't strikingly good-looking, but as soon as he asked me this simple question, something changed.
We talked for a while - I never found out how old he was but it didn't matter.
He asked about my run, my day, and then told me about his adventures with the Boston Marathon and gave me advice on my marathon plans.
He told me his name was Colin, I told him my name, and he told me it was very nice to meet me and he'd probably see me running around town somewhere again.
Then we went in different directions.

It was about five minutes, but five minutes certainly not wasted.
And after we parted, my cramp was gone.