they

aren't really any good. my writings. nobody ever reads them. they just sit here and go to waste. they already are waste, so that part doesnt matter much. i cant help but wish that people would care but in the same moment i dont care if people care. i want to be proud and have a sense of myself in my work but i feel like im losing everything and everyday it gets past me a little farther and im afraid that soon i wont be able to reach it anymore. im scared to death.

i want to fall on my knees and beg the literature gods to bless me with the power the gift the voice the character personality beauty strength knowledge. i want it all but i cant have any of it without effort and experience and books.

i never want to give up on anything that i love you.

and i really love you, a lot. wait for me.

I'd like

to pack everything up and leave. a few pieces of clothing, some books, Gonzo. i don't really feel the need to pack much more than that. of course i'd like Ty to come along. but i might go even if he didn't. i won't go, at all, though. not yet, anyway. as ready as i feel i know that i'm not really ready and leaving would only cause me more problems. or at least i think that it would. i could be wrong about that too. but none the less i'm not leaving right now.

i have a new feeling that once i start on this better path that i will be able to do it all right. not that i won't want to give up or throw it all down and leave again sometime in the future, but i am feeling that my focus will not allow me to wonder too far away this time. not as far as i wondered last time.

that was much too far.

i have to start reading more. start listening more. start paying closer attention. stop letting myself get in the way. push everything else aside for a short amount of time so that i can really figure it all out and make something of it. bring it to the surface. look at it under a microscope. write down exactly how it looks. descrivbe every little detail with the perfect words. capture it in a jar and set in on my shelf to look at everyday and know that i did it.

it can't really be all that hard. it's already there i just have to harness it. pull it in and remember it and even though it may be difficult i have to live it again to make it perfect.

i hope i can make it through one more time. hopefully one last time.

so this is me telling all of you that i will do this. i can do this and i have no other choice. you won't be disappointed.

but i may be.

i feel

sick. i dont think ill be doing that very often, if ever, again.

but besides that i feel good. i feel happy. i feel satisfied.

i know what i have to do and i kept losing focus but i am not going to lose focus anymore. i have to stop letting myself get in the way of the things that are what matter and what need to be done and said.

it may mean sacrifice but ill just have to be okay with that because in the end it will be less sacrifice until someday it will mean no sacrifice at all.

or that could all be mixed up and it will eventually mean sacrificing everything.

but as i said. i just have to do it and find out and stop hoping for things so much.

stop stressing, start focusing.

thats what my tampon told me this morning.

it seemed accurate enough.

it's like this

i havent written in a long time because i find myself finding myself unable to write what i want to say how i want to say it in the sentence structure that makes it make the most since and still allows it sound the way i want it to sound.

its ridicuous really the things i let get in the way.

i dont use much punctuation while im writing anymore either. plenty of time for editing later. its all about getting the thoughts down fast. fast. fast. before they vanish. this is the moment. its here now and it will only be here now and it will never ever come again. grab it.

i have to start remembering these things. thinking about them. holding on to them so that they dont slip away from me. i tell myself that i write things in my head all the time which is true but it doesnt count. it just doesnt. i dont remember them no one ever hears to remember them for me. they are gone. so many things that i could have said and i didnt and they are gone.

it isnt always going to be this way i swear. one day i write and i wont be able to stop and someone will love me for it and someone will know me for it and someone point to me and be proud.

i want to make people feel the way i feel when i read something someone has written and i take a deep breathe and know in that moment that i am real. i am real and i am solid and i am breathing. i can be do say sing laugh cry jump anything. i can do anything. i want to make people feel like they can do anything, because they can.

its been too long since ive let myself go and keep going and finally say something that means something. makes since. to myself at least.

im going to have to do this more often.

striving

i yawn and stretch as the alarm sounds over and over. the soft sound grows louder in anticipation. get up, it tells me. then louder; get up!. and so i do. i get up and i put it out of it's misery.

my morning routine is incredibly typical. i shower and i shave and i wash and then i finally make myself leave the hot, stress relieving water, and i stand infront of a foggy mirror and wait and wait for it to clear.

by the time it does, i may as well be climbing back into bed again. it happens that quickly every single day. i wake up and i may as well be going right back to sleep.

i do not want it to be this way. sometimes i dismiss my morning classes only because i am so exhausted from the habit. if you were to ask me why i am failing i would reply

"i am failing because i was too busy making an attempt to stay sane. it didn't work."

it doesn't work. it would work if only i could continue the pattern. but then it too would become routine and if i must be suffocated by routine i'd rather it be one that i come out of with something. something such as a degree, i suppose. or at least a well rounded education that might assist some future something.

maybe.a.little.poetry.

you pull me down
and drown me out
and run me over
in a good way
you make me smile
i make me slip
i let you
have your own say
turning over
in the summer
blankets filled with ants
burning deeper
then the winter
taking every chance
having every dance
its a new way to think
way to breathe
way to stitch
way to mend
and paint
and draw
and knit
i am not who i want
you are not who i am
we are growing
growing
falling
into something new and fresh
making new ones
killing old ones
set fire to the past
watch it melt into
the colors that
i thought would always last.

almost over. almost over. so close.

my senior year has brought me:

closer..
to friends
to life
to ty
to writing
to beliefs
to myself

fear..
of the future
of loans
of scholarships
of losing
them.
all of them.
of love
of living
of happiness
of contentment
of paint filled
water balloons
and powder colors
covered in rain

acceptance...
of who i am
and who i'll
become and
who i want
to be
of my families
current state
of my
relationship
of my past guilt
present guilt
future guilt
of the part
of my life
that i've wasted
of the part i am
wasting right
now
of the part that
i will never waste
of the fact that
i will have to
take out a student
loan
of summer jobs
of playing barbie
as the island princess
of my crazy friends
of their crazy boyfriends
of those who want so
badly to be something
important
but just don't
know how to get there

happiness
in my relationship
with ty
with my friends
with my family
with my self.
that's important
with my new choices
with my new unsettled
beliefs
with my current state
of
mind
with my soul
with my art
with my words

as it all starts to come into veiw...i realize that there are things that happened this year that will change my life forever. i never wanted to be the person who looks back and says that these "were the best days of my life" so i won't be. mainly because these are not the best days of my life. i refuse to let that be true, because i refuse to have that sucky of a life. but i will and can say that my senior year of high school has opened doors and windows and secret passage ways that i never knew existed. i know that from here i will only learn more. i will only get better. i will only be greater. my senior year wasn't the best. i won't even be here for graduation, but i can say that my senior year was a turning point. the part where i start over and over and over and never stop starting over because starting over means getting better and getting better means getting wiser and getting wiser means being read and that's all i want to be.

read.
read.
read.

that's it. always. that's all i have

ever.
ever.
ever.

wanted.