Five Years and Counting (This is not a sad poem.)

I remember December 31st 2008 when none of us really knew what seven minutes in heaven was but we played it anyway. We held hands for seven minutes.

And I remember crying that next morning because I thought getting your first kiss was losing your virginity. I spent the next week praying.

I remember the snowball fight of January 2010 and realize that my flirting methods haven't changed much since then.  (that's so sad)

I remember that breakup in front of the buses.

I remember February 2011 when we could have sworn there were no clouds above us and it was snowing anyway.  

I remember summer 2011 when that kid down the street moved in and there we're too many jokes made around the ping pong table. Sting pong and love sacks.

I wish I didn't remember fall 2011. The first year of High School and I blew it.

I remember those first couple weeks in January of our sophomore year when the strong people stayed and the weak people left. Everyone wore skirts even though they probably didn't want us too.  

I remember getting a prom dress and having to take it back.  I blame that on me. So did everyone else.

I remember begging for forgiveness. 

I remember that summer when soccer ended all too abruptly.

I remember getting the phone call that their secret was out and it was on the news.

I remember the number 27.

I remember Junior year. The halls were filled with secrets I didn't tell and eyes I tried not to meet.

And then the first weeks in January and I was the weak one that year. 

I remember not getting a dress for prom of 2013.

I remember talking with her for an hour like the past never happened.

I remember August 29th and being the happiest person on earth.

I remember a couple weeks ago talking to all of them.

And then last Monday he gave me a hug and I tried not to cry because little do they know and little do they care I actually think about the past a lot and mostly I'm sorry.

How to crush me.

Tell me your taking me to the moon and don't.

Tell me my art is kind of alright. 

Tell me I can't drive again because i'm not safe.

Tell me I don't know what i'm talking about. (and I swear i'll punch you in the face.)

Tell me what i'm feeling is just to get attention. (so what if it is. Give me some attention.)

Tell me I'm not good at that just to cause contention. 

I know I can't sing but on the occasion that I try please don't ruin that for me because it's rare. 

Don't invite me to hipster dance parties because you know how much I love those. 

Don't laugh at that last line. 

(Actually do because it's such a joke.)

Don't give me chocolate chip cookies when i'm sick. 

Don't come over when my boots are heavy. 

Don't write me a poem. Really don't because I know you don't mean it. 

Interrupt me when my mind is racing. 

Tell me you've bought a star for me and then you didn't. 

Tell me you'd travel far for me but you won't.

Run me through a crushing machine. 

on the occasion that you might decide to look at me again

Okay this is killing me. Did you start it or did I? Because half the time I glance at you from across the room your looking at me. I think. Am I the creep or are you? Because I don't find you creepy. And it's not  unsettling. I just hope it's not because you caught me looking first. Also I'm digging your shoes right now, and your beanie. Shoot I'm a creep. I'll stop. Okay i'll try real hard to stop. I just want to know what someone like you is really thinking.

Sad Chair

Sometimes I like Jam and Banana Sandwiches. 

Appearance and Reality

             All people have a contrast between how they appear to be and the reality of their true nature and feelings. A facade is constructed by everyone for all others to see so that the vulnerable substance which lies beneath remains safe, and guarded, and secret from the rest of the world. We do this to protect ourselves from outside danger which might harm the what we declare to ourselves to be highly personal. Things such as likes, wants, and needs are all to often assumed to be too dangerous to share, and all to often receive negativity when one brave enough shares them. If no one knows of what you truly want or feel inside, then people are less likely to make you feel negatively for it. It is at heart a rather cowardly thing. This cycle of lies and dishonest appearances. Almost none of us has the courage or quality of character to be true and honest in all we do and say. Its sad, to be truthful, when you think about what the quality of life could be. How devoid of guilt embarrassment, discouragement, fear, and countless other undesirable feelings we all could be. It is not hard to imagine the difference in quality of life there would be if all were a little more brave, and all a little more willing to receive the bravery and understand it.
             
            It would seem though that if human society could have been different it would be. But it isn't. Even with one hundred thousand years of human kind on this earth( that being the smaller estimate of the time modern humans have been around)  we have failed to create a sustainable way of life and interaction with our fellow people. Our kind is steeped in a sadomasochistic obsession over wealth, power, and social status. Society is rife with greed and dangerous self interest. Unfortunately all of the bad we perform is innate to human nature and our workings. We just can seem to help ourselves. We are doomed by our simultaneous unsustainable growth and lack of will to change course swiftly enough.The number one threat to humans is humans themselves. We are our own worst enemies. Humans create all their own tragedy for themselves and each other through blatant disregard for basic well being and rational thinking. Too few take time to give thought to the inherent dysfunctional nature of our system of living, and those who do either don't spread the thinking or do so ineffectively. It would truly seem as if we as people are collectively a rotten species wrought with mostly destructive tendencies.

             We as a people though are not bereft of good will, or kindness, or altruism. For just as it is in our nature to destroy and seek after things in selfishness and reckless abandon, so it is simultaneously in our nature to love and care and respect one another. We have love and altruism at our very cores. Like a warm coal at our center all our true feelings of care and goodwill sit, often dormant or seldom tapped. Yet when we touch and embrace the warmth of human decency and mutual respect we give off just a flash and a glimmer of what more there could be. We get a taste of what it is to be humans of a higher caliber. We feel proud of ourselves and our successful attempt to grasp for more then what is directly wanted by ourselves. We give birth to a rendition of greed which yearns not for wealth or power, but for the feeling of being understood and the ability to give that feeling  to others. All we really want is to be understood, and through being understood, to be loved, and in turn give love back through initiating with someone new, the very same process which we perhaps were so fortunate to take part in ourselves.

            

Intruding.

Just lately
I've been trying to find meaning in this flurry of meaningless commotion.
Because sometimes I feel like I walk down the hall surrounded by a swirling vortex of myself and there's something bigger than all of us that keeps me inside.
But,
NO MATTER WHERE I GO OR WHAT I DO I FEEL LIKE AN INTRUDER
on my own life. An intruder that at any moment could be shot down by my superficial self.

The superficial me that makes stupid jokes (that I don't even think are funny) just to see someone else laugh and show emotion.

The superficial me that runs through fields listening to epic film scores just to pretend there's something interesting in my life to feel emotional about.

The superficial me that gossips and talks down on someone or something just to get a rise out of people, because any emotion is better than no emotion. Am I right?

Maybe I'm right, because I know a lot of people that say and do things they don't approve of.

And sometimes I walk down the hall and hear phrases like,
omg like I can't believe you kissed him like,
i can't believe she wore that like,
i can't believe we did that
like...

SHUT THE HELL UP LIKE, I'M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS LIKE, WHY IS EVERYONE SO FAKE like...

when are we going to learn that
We kiss because we love, We wear what we want, We do what we have too.
Because right now all I can see is that we kiss because we're horny, we dress to impress, and we do what our parents say.

When are we going to learn that it's not about what we think it's about.
I'm starting to feel like I was wrong. Maybe it's not how many people like me but how many people I like.
It's probably about that uncomfortable walk down the hall with the happy kid I tried to ignore.
Or my mom giggling at my dirty joke and then trying to deny it.
or maybe it's about the fact that most of us swear on our blogs more than we do in real life even though we're probably all part of the same religious denomination
maybe it's about the misunderstood kids on probation.
or the kids in third world nations.
maybe it's about the moon.
OR MAYBE IT'S NOT ABOUT ANYTHING.

Woopdy woop woopdy woop woop.

I wish I lived in the eighties but my parents got hitched twenty years too late. 

I'm just a few years away from growing up with real leather skirts, mullets, upturned collars and moon boots.

I'm mostly bitter because I've been labeled "entitled".

of course it's in quotations because the generation before us likes to make snark comments. 

Come on grandpa if i really thought i was entitled i'd have stolen all your money by now. 

and let's be honest the nineties and early two thousands were kind of a let down. 

What were we thinking? chokers and tube tops. platform flip flops (but of course they were called thongs.) 

not to mention gauchos. Those awkward flowing pants. Oh and our hair. We liked to put it in spiky messy buns. So here's to the eighties because Ferris Bueller, you were toooooo Bitchin'. And let's not forget the phrase "Eat my shorts". Thank you breakfast club.