To whom it may concern,
I am fully aware that I have missed the first few weeks of this "weekly blog" thing, but better late than never, right? A great many things have occurred in my life in the last three weeks and I feel that I would like to share them with you... Whoever you are.
First of all, I realized the importance of having good friends in your life. I do believe I have blogged about my friends in the past, but this is a lesson I keep learning. One friend in particular is Maggie Holt. Maggie is an extraordinarily optimistic person for which the world is a better place. Maggie, welcome back from the imaginary land of Kairos. I hope to visit someday.
I remembered that at the age of two I was on the cover of a swim magazine doing swiming-ish things. I also remembered that I rather like water and someday hope to visit a lake. A real lake. I live by a lake, but it's a fake lake. There are a lot of fake things about the neighborhood in which I live (fake-brown people, fake bricks on the fronts of houses, fake grass...).
I just realized that I could probably say anything I want on here because nobody reads this. So, it's sort of a blessing in disguise. I can use this as a diary of sorts. Speaking of diaries, I want to watch Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets but cannot find the disk. My boyfriend and I had movie night one day and to our dismay could not find the disk. Sad beans.
I realized that I am not ready for college or life or anything, but I'd better get ready as it is coming whether I like it or not. I am having a bit of trouble letting go of my childhood, or what is left of it. I just got comfortable here and now I'm being kicked out. Go figure.
I realized that playing the cello is the shit and no one can ever take that from me, except maybe arthritis. I want to play the flute but my teacher (who allegedly has my best interest at heart) doesn't want me to. *Ahem*
I realized that no matter how dark the clouds are, or bleak the situation seems to be, there is always something better waiting on the other side. I realized that I am very much like my mother in that I am tenacious and don't give up. Ever. You will be hard pressed to see me fully quit something (unless you watch me jog).
I realized that though I love my friends dearly, they are cynical and entirely unhelpful in times of extreme strife. I love you all.
Life's good.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Monday, October 11, 2010
And The Next.
I am blogging, not of my own accord, but under threat of death. You see, life has positioned a loaded gun to my temple and if I do not acquiesce to it's demand for me to write, my head will surely explode. Do not be alarmed. I have decided to concede to this ultimatum. Hence, this blog post.
Where do I begin? Perhaps I shall commence with the morning rain and my impulsion to wear my galoshes and school sweater in a overwhelmingly prattish fashion. Or maybe I will skip ahead to how I drove my mother's car to school and scored a choice parking spot on the side of the school. Then again, it might be preferable that I start with my excursion to the orthodontist which ended with me shopping in upscale stores posing as a French tourist. And I may decide to start at the end, with Me, Myself and I sitting here typing, neglected, treating my homework the same.
It's cold in my room. I turned on my ceiling fan yesterday because it was hot. But now, the weather has switched identities yet again (Gemini), and I must find another sweater. I spilled soup on my sweater today. It left an pronounced trail of tomato right down the middle. My efforts to remove the soup from my plastic sweater yielded fruitless.
Mothers. The more enigmatic half of one parental unit. Mine has decided to abandon my brother and I for the favorable beaches of Florida. I can only remark that I am insanely jealous and do not blame her. She can escape me, but I cannot. I hope she has the time of her life because, her leave is only temporary and she must eventually return to the likes of... me.
I have this acquaintance, whom for this particular blogpost, I will call, Delia. We were once what I considered at the time very good friends. Sadly, slowly, and surely, I realized that she did not respect me, or any of my other friends and displayed a flagrant disregard for anyone's feelings but her own. Time and time again, Delia provoked the blistering tears that can only be produced out of anger from my tear ducts. I am finished shedding tears over Delia. I will leave it at that.
I am applying to exactly eleven colleges. Yes, they are all necessary as I like to keep my options open. No, they are not a burden as 10 of them use the exact same application. The Common Application. Extra points for creativity for that one.
Lessons of the Day:
- You get more attention in stores if you pretend to be French.
- Transitory months, such as October or May have no definite weather
- College is already stressful
Now that I have all of that out on the table, I have decided to be in a better mood for the remaining *glances at watch* three hours I will be awake today. With any luck, that decision will carry me blissfully through the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. x 100^10000
Where do I begin? Perhaps I shall commence with the morning rain and my impulsion to wear my galoshes and school sweater in a overwhelmingly prattish fashion. Or maybe I will skip ahead to how I drove my mother's car to school and scored a choice parking spot on the side of the school. Then again, it might be preferable that I start with my excursion to the orthodontist which ended with me shopping in upscale stores posing as a French tourist. And I may decide to start at the end, with Me, Myself and I sitting here typing, neglected, treating my homework the same.
It's cold in my room. I turned on my ceiling fan yesterday because it was hot. But now, the weather has switched identities yet again (Gemini), and I must find another sweater. I spilled soup on my sweater today. It left an pronounced trail of tomato right down the middle. My efforts to remove the soup from my plastic sweater yielded fruitless.
Mothers. The more enigmatic half of one parental unit. Mine has decided to abandon my brother and I for the favorable beaches of Florida. I can only remark that I am insanely jealous and do not blame her. She can escape me, but I cannot. I hope she has the time of her life because, her leave is only temporary and she must eventually return to the likes of... me.
I have this acquaintance, whom for this particular blogpost, I will call, Delia. We were once what I considered at the time very good friends. Sadly, slowly, and surely, I realized that she did not respect me, or any of my other friends and displayed a flagrant disregard for anyone's feelings but her own. Time and time again, Delia provoked the blistering tears that can only be produced out of anger from my tear ducts. I am finished shedding tears over Delia. I will leave it at that.
I am applying to exactly eleven colleges. Yes, they are all necessary as I like to keep my options open. No, they are not a burden as 10 of them use the exact same application. The Common Application. Extra points for creativity for that one.
Lessons of the Day:
- You get more attention in stores if you pretend to be French.
- Transitory months, such as October or May have no definite weather
- College is already stressful
Now that I have all of that out on the table, I have decided to be in a better mood for the remaining *glances at watch* three hours I will be awake today. With any luck, that decision will carry me blissfully through the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next. x 100^10000
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Under Pressure.
The title of this post is reminiscent of the oh so popular song by Queen.
Pressure, pushing down on me. Pressing down on you. No man ask for.
That's basically how my life is going right now. I've never been under quite so much pressure. As if being a senior and running a school weren't a challenge in itself, I now bear the weight that comes along with the responsibility of being a licensed driver. Following the rules of the road, watching out for other people, in addition to minding my own ass. My mom wants me to get a job so I can pay for my gas. She wants me to go to the grocery for her. She wants me to take my brother here. And there. Oh and there too.
That burns a building down. Splits a family in two. Puts people on streets.
Soon I will have to pack all of my things including that license, buy gas, and drive myself away from my home and to college. I have yet to pick a college. And a major. And a career. And a life to call my own. This past Saturday, it dawned on me that my days are numbered. No, no, I'm not planning on dying soon, but my days of lazy Saturdays and procrastination are most definitely numbered. So few in fact, I'm afraid I can count them. My mom wants me to spend my Saturdays planning my future. She doesn't understand my need to savor every Saturday. Planning can wait until Sunday.
It's the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming "let me out".
School, with whom I was once so happily acquainted, has transformed an untamable monster. My classes aren't hard. It's just hard for me to actually do the work. I'm sick of busy work and have a bad case of senior-itis, doused with my predisposition to act like a diva. Last week was the worst it has ever been. Also, the worst it will ever be. I realized half-way before too late that in order to get a job, or go to college and grow up and concern myself with planning and bills and panty-hoes, or any of the ridiculous things society or my mother wants me to do, I have to (somewhat) focus now. That's what pressure will do to you. It will take your childish fantasies, slap you in the face with them and cast them into the fire.
Pray tomorrow gets me higher. Pressure on people. People on streets.
Pressure is like the mafia. They give you an ultimatum, a death threat, and a dead line. Unfortunately for pressure, I am stubborn and refuse bow to its wishes. Examples? Sure. Last week, my friends and I went to a dinosaur themed restaurant to celebrate their 18th birthdays, played the La Marseillaise on the kazoo and continued to watch movies from our past (ie, My Neighbor Totoro, Veggie Tales...). So, pressure can pry youth from my cold, dead, decrepit fingers.
Um ba ba be. Um ba ba be. De day da. Ee day da- That's okay.
Pressure, pushing down on me. Pressing down on you. No man ask for.
That's basically how my life is going right now. I've never been under quite so much pressure. As if being a senior and running a school weren't a challenge in itself, I now bear the weight that comes along with the responsibility of being a licensed driver. Following the rules of the road, watching out for other people, in addition to minding my own ass. My mom wants me to get a job so I can pay for my gas. She wants me to go to the grocery for her. She wants me to take my brother here. And there. Oh and there too.
That burns a building down. Splits a family in two. Puts people on streets.
Soon I will have to pack all of my things including that license, buy gas, and drive myself away from my home and to college. I have yet to pick a college. And a major. And a career. And a life to call my own. This past Saturday, it dawned on me that my days are numbered. No, no, I'm not planning on dying soon, but my days of lazy Saturdays and procrastination are most definitely numbered. So few in fact, I'm afraid I can count them. My mom wants me to spend my Saturdays planning my future. She doesn't understand my need to savor every Saturday. Planning can wait until Sunday.
It's the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming "let me out".
School, with whom I was once so happily acquainted, has transformed an untamable monster. My classes aren't hard. It's just hard for me to actually do the work. I'm sick of busy work and have a bad case of senior-itis, doused with my predisposition to act like a diva. Last week was the worst it has ever been. Also, the worst it will ever be. I realized half-way before too late that in order to get a job, or go to college and grow up and concern myself with planning and bills and panty-hoes, or any of the ridiculous things society or my mother wants me to do, I have to (somewhat) focus now. That's what pressure will do to you. It will take your childish fantasies, slap you in the face with them and cast them into the fire.
Pray tomorrow gets me higher. Pressure on people. People on streets.
Pressure is like the mafia. They give you an ultimatum, a death threat, and a dead line. Unfortunately for pressure, I am stubborn and refuse bow to its wishes. Examples? Sure. Last week, my friends and I went to a dinosaur themed restaurant to celebrate their 18th birthdays, played the La Marseillaise on the kazoo and continued to watch movies from our past (ie, My Neighbor Totoro, Veggie Tales...). So, pressure can pry youth from my cold, dead, decrepit fingers.
Um ba ba be. Um ba ba be. De day da. Ee day da- That's okay.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Today I Decided...
Today, I decided to be happy no matter what. Because wallowing in self-pity only makes it worse.
Today, I decided to stick around for better or for worse. Because once you leave, you'll be hard pressed to come back.
Today, I decided to speak my mind. Because nobody can read it for me.
Today, I decided that I am in control. Because without control, there can be no hope of progression.
Today, I decided to be confident. Because I can.
Today, I decided that people are all we have
Today, I decided to hope. Because though frail, it's hard to kill.
Today, I decided that love was the answer. Because it conquers all.
Today, I decided to stick around for better or for worse. Because once you leave, you'll be hard pressed to come back.
Today, I decided to speak my mind. Because nobody can read it for me.
Today, I decided that I am in control. Because without control, there can be no hope of progression.
Today, I decided to be confident. Because I can.
Today, I decided that people are all we have
Today, I decided to hope. Because though frail, it's hard to kill.
Today, I decided that love was the answer. Because it conquers all.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
The Belated Blog: From the Dormant Desk of one Withered Writer.
I have not blogged in over a week. It's not that I don't care to blog, or that I have nothing about which I would like or need to blog. No. I have often referred to my life as an episode of the popular Canadian teen-drama called Degrassi. In said show, with every episode someone has either had an abortion, contracted syphilis or has laid themselves in front of a tractor out of protest and met a sticky end. As I said, my life follows such patterns. You may be thinking, "why do you associate yourself with such people as they seem to inflict such turmoil upon your otherwise perfect life?" I'll have you know that first and foremost, I do not consider myself to have such an exemplary life. If I did, rest assured, I would not have a blog. Nobody wants to read about the perfect life in which I wake up to Handel's water music and birds fluttering around my head and proceed to go to school in my steam-pressed plaid skirt and knee-socks, a healthy lunch made by my mother in an unwrinkled brown sac in hand and all of my teachers are chip-chipper and my friends are all bright eyed and rosy cheeked, because that would be a nightmare. Not to mention a huge lie. Secondly, it's not that I choose to surround myself with such people. Rather, I tend to surround myself with people, instead of dooming myself to a life as a social leper. Everybody has their quirks, (yes, that means you) and I, personally like them. They tend to keep life interesting. Where would I be without my crazy friends and their equally crazy families? I'll tell you. I'd be hopelessly lost. Many of the crazy people I encounter on a day to day aren't even my friends. I am guilty of sitting in a coffee shop just to watch the customers in their natural habitats. I sometimes go so far as to fabricate scenarios that I assume to be their lives. For example, just the other day, I was sitting outside of a local coffee shop called, The Roasterie with my friend Kirby. (Mind you, Kirby does not share the same passion of people as myself so naturally she was just sitting there with her iced mocha, absorbed in the newspaper.) An aged man walks by wearing a gray pristinely tailored suit, a pink tie and brown leather loafers. Oh, he also had an alligator skin briefcase and placed so delicately atop his head was a black toupée. 45. Lawyer. Three kids and a dog named Scout. That sort of thing. You understand.
What one could call my obsession with people has led me to attempt to pursue a career as a psychologist. I used to want to be a sex therapist. But that is a bit of hasty thinking as I've not yet experienced the "magic" of sexual intercourse. Anyway, maybe later in my career I will see patients who have reached their golden years and attempt to help them rediscover their libido. But, for starters, I'd like to be that "shrink" with the cool office and leather chaise where you come and spend an hour talking your heart out. I find that people love to talk and I love to listen. Another thing people don't realize, is that they often say far more than they intend without saying anything at all. I feel like psychology would be the best job for me and for the life I'd like to have. Psychology will allow me to have flexible enough hours to where if my child chops off his or her finger, I can be in the ER in a heartbeat, holding their disfigured hand. Morbid, you say? Yes. But that's what kids do. They chop off appendages. On a more realistic note, let's say my darling son and or daughter has a game or school play for which my attendance would be much appreciated, I would love to be able to be there. Perhaps this is because I have never felt the pleasure of having a parent support me an my functions, as they both have demanding jobs. Sad yes, but if I can manipulate my disappointment into something beautiful for the sake of my children, so be it. This career will also give me room to pursue my other passion. Writing. I love to write and I have recently unearthed a secret desire to write and perhaps illustrate children's books. As my dear boyfriend once said, "[I'll] be a regular Patricia Polacco." She was truly one of the greats. Though, I would rather be more of a Roald Dahl. It was books like Matilda and James and the Giant Peach that saw me through my woeful days. Though Lemony Snicket and J.K. Rowling were also among my childhood favorites, it is not my desire to write on such a grand scale.
So, there you have it. My life, and plans in a nutshell. Make of it what you will.
What one could call my obsession with people has led me to attempt to pursue a career as a psychologist. I used to want to be a sex therapist. But that is a bit of hasty thinking as I've not yet experienced the "magic" of sexual intercourse. Anyway, maybe later in my career I will see patients who have reached their golden years and attempt to help them rediscover their libido. But, for starters, I'd like to be that "shrink" with the cool office and leather chaise where you come and spend an hour talking your heart out. I find that people love to talk and I love to listen. Another thing people don't realize, is that they often say far more than they intend without saying anything at all. I feel like psychology would be the best job for me and for the life I'd like to have. Psychology will allow me to have flexible enough hours to where if my child chops off his or her finger, I can be in the ER in a heartbeat, holding their disfigured hand. Morbid, you say? Yes. But that's what kids do. They chop off appendages. On a more realistic note, let's say my darling son and or daughter has a game or school play for which my attendance would be much appreciated, I would love to be able to be there. Perhaps this is because I have never felt the pleasure of having a parent support me an my functions, as they both have demanding jobs. Sad yes, but if I can manipulate my disappointment into something beautiful for the sake of my children, so be it. This career will also give me room to pursue my other passion. Writing. I love to write and I have recently unearthed a secret desire to write and perhaps illustrate children's books. As my dear boyfriend once said, "[I'll] be a regular Patricia Polacco." She was truly one of the greats. Though, I would rather be more of a Roald Dahl. It was books like Matilda and James and the Giant Peach that saw me through my woeful days. Though Lemony Snicket and J.K. Rowling were also among my childhood favorites, it is not my desire to write on such a grand scale.
So, there you have it. My life, and plans in a nutshell. Make of it what you will.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Wherever You Are
Come out moon, come out wishing star
Come out, come out
Wherever you are
I'm out here in the dark
All alone and wide awake
Come and find me
I'm empty and I'm cold
And my heart's about to break
Come and find me
I need you to come here and find me
Cause without you I'm totally lost
I've hung a wish on every star. It hasn't done much good so far
I can only dream of you
Wherever you are
I'll hear you laugh, I'll see you smile
I'll be with you just for a while
But when the morning comes, and the sun begins to rise
I will lose you
Because it's just a dream, when I open up my eyes
I will lose you
I use to believe in forever, but forever is to good to be true
I've hung a wish on every star
It hasn't done much good so far
I don't know what else to do, except to try to dream of you
And wonder if you are dreaming too
Wherever you are
Come out, come out
Wherever you are
I'm out here in the dark
All alone and wide awake
Come and find me
I'm empty and I'm cold
And my heart's about to break
Come and find me
I need you to come here and find me
Cause without you I'm totally lost
I've hung a wish on every star. It hasn't done much good so far
I can only dream of you
Wherever you are
I'll hear you laugh, I'll see you smile
I'll be with you just for a while
But when the morning comes, and the sun begins to rise
I will lose you
Because it's just a dream, when I open up my eyes
I will lose you
I use to believe in forever, but forever is to good to be true
I've hung a wish on every star
It hasn't done much good so far
I don't know what else to do, except to try to dream of you
And wonder if you are dreaming too
Wherever you are
Friday, September 10, 2010
A Shrewd Awakening.
It's not that I don't want to grow up. I just want to stay a child as long as I can. Take my time. Now that I'm a senior in high school, people are expecting certain things of me. Asking me certain questions. To which most of them, I just shrug my shoulders. It's not that I don't care about growing up, because I do. I'm not your typical nonchalant adolescent. No. It's just that I look at people like my parents and teachers and they don't seem to be having a swell time being grown up. I also don't understand the things about which adults are concerned. Suits and ties. Stocks and bonds. Those things seem ironically infantile. I also hate how adults are. Stalking around the earth like kings, who don't even condescend to consider "children" like myself. They forget what it's like. Almost as if they forgot they were ever children themselves. If only they could see that they are not nobles, but amorphous, gray, shells, merely pretending to exist.
It's sad, because I can already see myself slipping into maturity. I can feel it creeping into my being, and suppressing my inner-child. Certain television shows and movies just don't tickle me in the same way they once did. I am no longer stupefied by the simple wonders of nature, like rainbows, snow capped mountains or even from where babies come. And perhaps the most horrible loss of all, is all that remains of my imagination which once smoldered like an untamable inferno within, is but a feeble ember.
Just as depressing is the fact that there is almost nothing neither you nor I can do to prevent this. At some point, the majority of us will be consumed by the demon that is maturity. Life rapes us of our tender ambitions and leaves precious few virgin souls on this earth. All we can do is enjoy it while it lasts. And pray that just maybe, the transition into adulthood won't be so bad after all. I'm sure maturity has it's perks, (they have, however, chosen not to disclose their whereabouts at the present time). They have disguised themselves well. But I have so far uncovered one and it lies within parenthood. I have come to appreciate that ideas like holding your child for the first time possess a new sort of gratification. Hence, I have pragmatically placed my trust in the prospect that things will be okay.
It's sad, because I can already see myself slipping into maturity. I can feel it creeping into my being, and suppressing my inner-child. Certain television shows and movies just don't tickle me in the same way they once did. I am no longer stupefied by the simple wonders of nature, like rainbows, snow capped mountains or even from where babies come. And perhaps the most horrible loss of all, is all that remains of my imagination which once smoldered like an untamable inferno within, is but a feeble ember.
Just as depressing is the fact that there is almost nothing neither you nor I can do to prevent this. At some point, the majority of us will be consumed by the demon that is maturity. Life rapes us of our tender ambitions and leaves precious few virgin souls on this earth. All we can do is enjoy it while it lasts. And pray that just maybe, the transition into adulthood won't be so bad after all. I'm sure maturity has it's perks, (they have, however, chosen not to disclose their whereabouts at the present time). They have disguised themselves well. But I have so far uncovered one and it lies within parenthood. I have come to appreciate that ideas like holding your child for the first time possess a new sort of gratification. Hence, I have pragmatically placed my trust in the prospect that things will be okay.
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