Pisses me off

I'm stuck as a cripple and my sister and mom are LAUGHING AT ME. I kid you not, even my mom is laughing at me. It's frustrating, because I'm already feeling like crap and yet I still get laughed at because I can't get up. ARGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

hello out there :P

Sick of being sick. Very, very sick of being sick. And a cripple, I really just want to be done with all of the crap with my knee and my immune system. That and I am exhuasted. Completely and totally and it sucks. Plus, I think I'm babbling. I'm also wondering where you are and what not, but whatever. Check the blog :P

Wow.

I just learned that a teenage girl was killed in the shooting. Talk about a reality check.... It's very weird to think about how life is still going on, and yet there's yet another event framed in our mind for tradgedy that will never move forward. It's very weird to think about....

There was another shooting

Four words, not much effect.
I had heard about the first one,
One in Arvada. Two dead.
One critically injured.
And all I thought was,
How sad. But this one,
This one hit close to home.
I could have been there,
At that church. New Life.
I could have been shot.
It's terrifying to think about,
But there's a morbid curiosity.
What would it be like?
Would I be huddling, cowering
In a closet, praying
I wouldn't be found,
Or would I be caught off guard
And get shot, or would I
Even possibly play the hero,
Trying to take the shots,
Or get the gun away from the shooter.

Why would anyone do this?
To visit a place that has
Done nothing but good, and
Try to kill children, mothers,
Fathers, brothers, sisters.
What would prompt someone
To kill other people,
People who mean something
To another, who are valuable
In someone else's lives.
What would drive anyone
To put a burden of someone's
Life on their soul, to
Take away such a precious thing
From someone who will never
Be able to get it back.

Banging my head against the wall

I think I should know better than to try and express my feelings to someone that I'm pretty sure they never wanted to hear in the first place. (Uh, no offense.) It just means that situations end up awkward and I end up more confused. I don't know, I just feel really, really weird. Ugh.....my eloquence fails.

Yada yada yada insert cliche here

Mind somewhere unknown. Tired. Poem I've been meaning to put up. yeah, yeah, same style. New thoughts. Didn't sleep well. Couldn't sleep. Need a nap. Sigh.

Who defines us?
Are our parents
The lone scupltors
Of our identities?
Or are we born in
An inescapable mold?

Are we like stone?
Once a chip is made
Will it ever come out?
Does everyone we meet
Carve us into who
They think we are?
Or do people's impressions
Have no effect?

Are we like clay?
Are we sensitive to
Even the slightest pressure?
Can we be squished
And restarted at
The will of our sculptors?

Who would be our sculptor?
Our peers? Our parents?
The people we talk to?
In the end, do they
Make us into lumps
Of clay, and chipped
Hunks of stone?

New poem!

I know, it's amazing, I actually wrote a poem within a couple months of the last one. Popped into my head while I was trying to sleep and here it is as it came out.

As I lie here awake
I wonder if others
Have unselfish reasons
For being awake.
Is life or death
Involved in their insomnia?
Are they planning
The next days battles?
And praying they survive?
Or are the legions of sleepless
As superficial as I,
Worrying about school
And sleepless dreams
With special crushes,
Thoughts of the battlers
Barely breaking throught the chaos
But they always makes
Me wonder what the
Legions of the sleepless
Are sleepless about.

AUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Ok. The title just about sums it up. (Whine alert) I'm cranky for insane reasons (do NOT pull the stereotypical guy thing and blame it on that. It's not THAT) of that I'm hungry, and I was picked on about dropping the f bomb WHICH I DID NOT DO. And they two guys that claimed I dropped the f bomb were acting like they had just seen me go through and initiation right or something. Pissed me off. Then, for no good reason my knee starts hurting. So I take ibprofen. I'm not sure what did it, but all of a sudden I felt really light headed (I'm just wondering if the air was thin) and like passing out. And lashing out. Ugggghhhhhhh. Anywho, I would really like to talk to you. You know about the situation I emailed you about? Ok, dealt with it myself. Please talk to me?

New poem

Mind you, never experienced something like this. My mind kind of churned it out. Yes, I do think it's a little strange to be thinking about it. No clue why. Yes, I know, cliffhanger, but the poem just wanted to be ended there. My mind goes into overdrive when I try to think about this person dying, but I can't see it ending any other way. Urgh, already feels like a chunk of me is missing. :P I need to talk, and for you to ask questions. I'm going to be home all day tomorrow. :P I almost feel like a shroud of silence is following me. It's not oppressive or anything, it's just noticeable. Like I have to force my words out, such as when I'm talking to my dad. I think it has something to do with uh, her (think CM). She was exuberant, glowing even, with that subtle smile of I love my life. Then she got a phone call, and I didn't see her much after that, and she wasn't as happy. I don't know why that would bug me. This is weird, I feel like I don't have words for anyone else but you. I mean, in the sense that if I try to explain any of this to anyone else they will just look at me funny. Urgh. Anyway, now that that's out of my system, the poem. Urgh, I have this nagging feeling something is wrong. I don't know where it came from, but I don't like it. I'm not going to be sleeping much tonight. Where are you anyway? :P

Nightmare. Time crawled by.
A truck blasted out of the silence
Splintering the fragile night,
Echoes of shredding metal.
The little red car, no.
It can’t. It wouldn’t.
No, can’t think that.
Cell phone. Where’s my cell phone.
Right, 911, phone number, location.
Help, must go help. Can’t be.
Wouldn’t be. Mustn’t be.
Frantic dash from car. Seatbelt.
No fuel leak, no fire. Ok, calm.
Door, get the car door open.
NO, can’t be. Couldn’t be. Why?
Hurry, seatbelt. Get them out.
Why them? Why here? Why?
Relief. He’s ok. Get his help, must help.
Oh no. Oh no. Why her?
Big dent, she still alive?
Truck, must move the truck.
Get driver out, no trust.
Ok, please, door, open.
No, no, no. Crowbar. I have one.
Please, hurry. Sirens. Relief.
Door opened, blood. Not her. Not here.
Help her. HELP HER. No, I’m fine.
HELP HER, PLEASE. Why her?
No, she must be alive. She can’t die.
Not her, not here. Panic.

Kind of like a prose

I wrote this in response to someone who was going on the whole "Youth have no respect these days" tangents. URGH! That drives me crazier than sexism, because there are so many people who are just trying to make a difference and they get drowned out by those who attend orgies for fun. *rolls eyes*

I am a youth, and I must say, all of the stereotypical crap about youth drives me BONKERS. I'm fourteen, I've never been kissed, hell, I've never even really been touched by a guy my age. I very rarely cuss, I've never looked at porn, I have a plan for my life, and I try to respect authority as much as possible. I am also drug and alcohol free, and have never been to an orgy. Does this make me outside of the stereotype? I don't think so. I know a lot of people my age who are upstanding citizens, even if they might cuss (so do their parents) or talk in class (who doesn't at one point or another.) Heck, I'm even taking college classes because I wanted to get ahead and move on with my life. So yes, youth need help. Are we all spoiled rotten and rotten to the core? No! Alright, that was somewhat flamey. I apologize. Stereotypes are just one of those things that bypass patience for me. Anywho, I truly feel like the youth of America will make a difference, and be able to help change the world for the better. It might take a national tragedy to bring EVERYONE together, but so many teens are just looking to change their world and get frustrated when they keep hitting walls or locked doors over and over again. Do a lot of youth need help? Yes! Do some just need a megaphone? Yes!

A different pair of eyes

I tried to take a new idea and turn it into a poem on seeing your comment, so lemme know what you think. It's rather question-mark happy, but hey, I asked a lot of questions.

How do I see the world?
Is it a different view
Than my neighbor?
Will the same event
Be viewed differently
With another's values?

What is the world
Like to a child?
Bright and full of
Opportunity and imagination?
Or is it closed and bitter
From the harshness of abuse?

Does true innocence see
Differently from actual childhood?
Or does childhood end
With the loss of innocence?

Is childhood a number?
Constantly being ticked down
Until it's lost forever?
Could it be more, Like a state of mind,
Or one of life's
Stepping stones into adulthood?

Will any of us remember
Our childhood when we
Are parents ourselves?
For children always wonder
If their parents have forgotten
What it's like to be a teenager
But is it just memory loss
Or a different set of eyes?

Another poem

I wrote this, and I think it's one of my better ones, or at least most self expressive. Wonder if my English professor could tell I was zoning out. Ah well, these things happen.

I am one voice,
Crying out for change.
But I cannot be heard,
For the crowd is
Louder than I can be.
Will anyone notice
A lone voice, seeking
To better the world?
My elders ignore me,
Telling me I don't know
Saying I haven't seen the world.
My peers can't hear me,
I'm drowned out by
Voices that surround me.
Does no one want change?
Why does no one see?
We are all different,
But all feel the same things.
All of us are Eathlings,
Despite our skin or gender.
For the stereotypes we create
Are very much imaginary
Forcing those outside the box
To be quite ordinary.

I thought this was good

I related to it somewhat, but not really. I just thought it was good.

http://poetsanctuary.proboards47.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=OpenMic&thread=1189913440&page=1
(idk if I can copy the poem, so the link oughta do it.) alternately, since the link doens't appear to work go to open mic and look for advice means I can screw you over. it's by Midnight in Eden if you don't get it in time.

Finally! It's a poem!!!!

Ok, so I know I originally started this blog to post my poems, but it's turned into something of an online diary. So, at long last, it's another poem!!!! And there was much rejoicing. (Sorry, really, really tired, woke up at three and my dad woke me up at five, so I didn't get as much sleep as I was hoping for.) Back to the poem!!! It comes with that special feel that only a sleep deprived poem can bring, so here ya are. And it's in stanzas!!! With puntuation!!!! And I'm using lots of exclamation points!!!!! And being a smart alec. That last remark doesn't deserve exclamation points it's so normal. Anywhoooooo, without further adooooooo, my poem.

My thoughts bubble,
Boiling over and
Spilling out onto
The empty page

Words unspoken now
Stain pages, touching
The world, though
The world may
Not touch them

Who will hear me,
Will someone feel
Better or changed
Because of my words?
Or will my musings
Be just words on a page?

Pardon the slightly loopy introduction. (Ok, really loopy.) I'm really loopy today, that is my excuse. If you don't like it, tough. :P anywho, I'm sure you are questioning my sanity at this point, so I better go before you call the funny farm. (Or have you already done that?)

Another weird realization from disney

I think they have those dance alongs because kids want to be just like stars, but they don't realize that the moves are already taken. People just don't realize that the copy will never be as good as the original because the original has people that design the dance and airbrush them and do their makeup and what not. But, their own steps are what truly suit them are are what set them apart. Their own steps, if that's what makes them happy, make them beautiful for who they are. Sometimes dancing to the beat of a different drummer is the best thing that will ever happen to someone. (I know, I know, you don't like the cliche, but I really like that one)

I discovered something

Tomboys are really good at dealing with people who have self esteem issues. Mostly because they attract the people who do. Kind of weird, but there you go. I think maybe it's because in order to be a tomboy you have to be confident in your feminity. Another one of those weird things. The things one discovers or realizes when watching movies. Only, I guess most people wouldn't realize these things while watching movies like Miss Congeniality. Ah well.(I think it's hysterical when people ask me for advice about their hair, even when I actually had it, it was always in a ponytail.)

Ho hum

Lazy day. Ah yay. I finally get to stay home, though I think I will be playing catch up for a while. Ah well. I have something to add up here, a poem I wrote a little bit ago as well as a prose or two, but I am very comfy on my couch and I don't wanna get up. That and I am relatively sure that I don't know where it is. Yep, I make sense, I know. I'm watching Take the Lead for the hundredth time and I have been playing video games since seven. Maybe a nap next... :D I know, I'm not nice. Tommorow should be really easy, I just hope I don't have strep. That would suck. A lot. My mom might take me to the doctor later. Y'know, I think Take the Lead is one of the only movies where I don't have any cynical comments. I know, I thought that was impossible. Urgh, I would hate it if I missed a trip to the movies. Anywho, I'ma get back to my movie.

Urgh

Wow, I don't feel so good. And here I am, typing away at the school computer, praying I don't infect everyone. Sigh, I wish I could go curl up in a ball, drink soup and sleep. Ah well, hopefully the rest of the day won't be too hard and I can find someplace warm. (This building has really nice air conditioning. It's so nice milk won't spoil if you leave it out.) Anywho, I'ma leave it at that before I start babbling.

We had another fight

My mom was reading fan fiction, and she said when she finished the story, she would come downstairs. I meant the current screen, but she went and started another one because it was of the same story. She said that she didn't believe me when I said that she never did anything with us anymore. SHE DOESN'T!!!!! She didn't even come to testing today and is apparently now stunned that I want her to come down and hear my sisters' and I stories. I can't even remember the last time that she just came down and chatted. She's almost always holed up in her study reading that stupid fanfiction. I'm tempted to bust through the door she locked, but then I would have to pay for it. All I want is my mom back. Anywho, edited poem below. I'm really trying not to hit something at the moment because my mom hasn't noticed how all we do together is sit in the car or go to the dojang. I want the "cool mom" who plays video games and gets into my hobbies, the one who raised me. I don't know who she is, but she's not acting like my mother. I know it's tough to write a dissertation, but that was back in march!!!!! that's at least six months. And I know I'm whining a lot but I need my mother because how else am I supposed to figure out how to grow up???

The way we view each other

This is an updated version of the other one. Sorry about the random post before, I accidentally hit enter while typing in the title and that's all that got posted.

I thought they wer all the same,
They looked so alike to me.
Yet some were sweet, yet others sour,
Whether they were well dressed or
Just didn't care what people thought.
Their outsides were just husks,
Not true reflections of what's inside.
I guessed I've learned that no matter
What happens, no matter how they look
People will always be different, inside
And even out.

they

New tactic

I've decided that instead of still trying to be my mother's child, I should be myself. So, instead of trying to be who I was, I'm going to be myself, in all my philosophical glory. Ah well, hopefully she will deal and it won't scare her too badly. I will see how this goes.

Another one down

Yay, one more school day down, only about eight months of them to go. Ah well. Today at lunch was interesting, it was all girls (that alone is weird for me) and one girl was playing with another's hair. (The girl who's hair was getting played with looks like Avril Lavenge, it's almost down to her wasit.) They were also talking about the weirdest things. Like her hair getting in the way of kissing, which guys were good/bad kissers, oh, and condoms. That was the weirdest one. I was way out of my element. Emily seemed to be too, considering I think she's dated only two boys and as far as I know, neither relationship went very far. Though, I realized that I no longer have the hair everyone wants to play with. I think that was the only thing I liked about having long hair. I'm not sure I will ever participate (I didn't even say anything in the first place, although I did get chinese food) in the discussions again, mainly because of the couple snuggling. That's who brought up condoms, the girl wandered off with her BF and came back and said that she came back for a condom. The BF's expression was priceless, and I think my jaw almost went through the floor. The group is definitley weird......I guess I don't have any room to talk. Other than that, I have just been in classes all day and I will probably spend most of the night at the Dojang. Sigh....Oh, though art was fun. And you probably didn't even want to know all of this about my day. If you are still reading this, thank you!

Blargh

It's 10:22 and I feel really really cranky. For no apparent reason. Maybe it's because I had entirely too much math homework and can only blame myself. Maybe it's because my dad has been nagging me or patronizing me all day. Maybe it's because my parents have been snuggling everywhere I have been. Lesse, that's the movie theater, the grocery store, our house. All right in front of me, pretty much non-stop. :P I guess the movie was fun, except for the kissing part. (The return of Ms. Gagsalot!!!!) Maybe that's why I'm cranky, I've had a mush overdose. :P I would scream, but my parents are probably sleeping or, ah, snuggling some more. :P Whatever, not sure I want to know. Anywho, I'm going to go try to relax now, see how long it takes me to calm down.

Song thing

It's rather long, I told you so :P anyway, I repeat the chorus, so it really could be a song. I made a kinda tune to it, cause I guess I believe in dressing how you feel you are. I like pairing girly tops with baggy jeans :D. (You probably thought I got rid of them, huh Steffanie? :D)

I'm looking in the mirror
And I don't know
Who's staring back at me
This person in the mirror
Looks so different from who
I'm supposed to be
I've listened to the world
And all the voices in it
So this is who I turned out to be
With ice cold eyes
Like chips of stone
And a heart to match
Where's the girl I used to be
And who's this staring back at me
Because I don't know
Who I am anymore
But I've just done
What I've been told
Head down, Blend in
Become a part of the herd
But I don't want to
Be who I'm told anymore
It's not just at school
Or by my friends
That I'm told who I am
or who I should become
I see my parents
Peering at me on
this pedestal I hate
They've set the bar
And held up hoops
And I have made each one
Yet they set the bar
Higher still and I'm
Of falling from this place
I'm breaking down and yet
I can't just give up
I'm spiraling completely
Out of what control I have
I'm ready to just scream
But then someone might hear me
Because I don't know
Who I am anymore
But I've just done
What I've been told
Head down, blend in
Become a part of the herd
But I don't want to
Be who I'm told anymore
I guess it's not so bad
Being who I'm told
But I just want to be me
I'm ready to stand out
And not blend in anymore
Because I don't know
Who I am anymore
But I've just done
What I've been told
Head down, blend in
Become a part of the herd
But I don't want to
Be who I'm told anymore

Argh

Sigh, it's yet another Friday. And I'm going to be here until 3:30 XD I'm running out of books to read. Ah well, I guess I am in a library. (Whatever would I do without it?) I haven't really written anything new except for an essay about the creek, and that would take forever to put up here and would take up entirely too much room. The teacher who looked at it so far said it's really good, but meh. Oh, and I've written a song thing, but that too would take forever to type up. Sigh, I guess I don't really have anything better to do with my spare time. I had a Mountain Dew earlier, I think that's made me a little hyper and caused me to start babbling. I should stop before I make a fool out of myself or is it already too late?

Random prose

The most random things send me into a philosophical mood, and apparently High School Musical 2 is one of them. This is the resulting prose.

If I asked you what the most lethal part of the human body was, you would probably say the hands, teeth or even feet. I say that the most powerful and hurtful part is the tongue. Words have unusual power; they are a weapon unlike any other. They can be used to soothe or encourage, as well as to wound almost irreversibly. Words, unlike most weapons, can never be healed or taken back or mended in some way. Bandages have no effect, and the memory will still be there, even after forgiveness. Words can be used even by the least of us, putting power into the hands of almost everyone, the power to hurt beyond measure. Our bodies are driven by this strange form of weaponry, just as ships by the tiller.

Ok, if you don't know what a tiller is, you really should read more. It's the thingy on ships that steers it, on old fashioned sailboats, it's the thing the wheel is connected to. Also known as a rudder.

Inheritance

Wrote this one rather recently, sent it to my mother, idk what she thinks about it.

You come into this world
Unbroken and whole and
We pray for you to leave
The same, but this might
Not be the case.

Family surround you, to
Guide you on your path.
Parents at first, bringing you
Into the world and starting
A life and guiding you to
A path you will follow.

Friends take over, influencing
Small things and large.
Helping you choose the
Path of your future,
Turning you to unknown
Expiriences and travels,
Opening worlds new and old.

Sometime you might meet
That special someone who
You want to make your life
With and they will open you
To new dimensions of trust,
Teaching you honor and
Responsibility for someone
Other than yourself

The cycle might begin again
And you will learn the joy
Of rasing a child of yourown
Seeing the paths they choose
And the friends they make.
This letter might be repeated
To my grandchildren in your
Own words and you will
Know the role of doting
Grandmother, watching your
Children's children grow up
Passing an inheritance of wisdom

You say that I

I dug this up from a long time ago, lemme know what you think.

You say that I
Am inferior to you.
And yet you can't
Tell me why this is.
Have I not met
Your expectations?
Or are you merely
Afraid of losing the power
You think you have?
Or are you
Just afraid of
Getting beat by a girl?


You say that I
Am inferior to you.
Even after I have
Proved to you,
Time and time again,
That I can be all
You want me to
And so much more
Regardless of my
Gender. Look around
You and see
The living proof
That we have worked for
And things we have
Accomplished.


You say that I
Am inferior to you
Despite my
Repeated and immediate
Disproval of this
And though I
Don’t believe that
I am any better than
You, I do believe that
We are equal and should
Be treated as so.

The way we view each other

They all seemed just the same to me
They looked so alike you see
Yet some were sweet,
While others sour,
The way they treated each other
Differing in every way.
Respect was absent for some
Yet present for the others.
Some, like me at first,
Judged everyone else
By their cover.
Yet some unique souls
Watched the person inside
Before they passed their judgement.
They led the way, a shining example
Of how accepting we could be.
Trying to teach by example,
This important lesson to learn.

ok, so this rambles, and I didn't really know where to cut it off. any thoughts? I am still kind of working on the idea, but I think I could get somewhere with this.

Ho hum

Good morning. I'm in the library bored out of my mind because I didn't realize I would be having three free periods today. Yipee. I have a feeling I will be back down here checking out books later. Ah well, these things happen. Hope your day went well, as when you read this you will probably be out of school. Poem to come soon.

Well, anywho

Library is closing sooner than I thought, rats. I won't be able to talk to you on fridays, but every other day is good if you get home soon enough. Oh well, it will at least be some way to talk.

Well

I will try to keep this more update, and it would be a nice way for us to talk if we get to busy. Besides, I can do this at school, I can't IM. Anywho, comment if you agree, tell me when we get to talk again if you don't.

What right have they

I hear people talk about all kinds of things that I think they know nothing about. I say this because they show they know nothing about something by believing in the things that are said by people who are racist or sexist. Supposedly in America, "all men are created equal, " and yet not all men are treated so. Gay men are still men, and they are not treated equally by the law. African American men are still men, and yet for the longest time, they were treated as slaves. I wonder when we will finally get to say something like, "In America, all men and women are treated equally, regardless of race or orientation." Then I think we could call America the home of the free, rightfully so too.

But one chance

We are given
But one chance
To live the lives
We doTo change
The world
Around us to
Love and to learn
To serve
So why
Are we still
Sitting here
Watching lives not
Our own and
Not learning
Or growing
Becoming who
We are meant
To be

I watch the world

I watch the world
Through my window
Seeing the people and
Faces as they pass by
Yearning to join them
But somehow knowing
That I would be
Disconnected
Still behind the window
In my mind
Even if I was outside
And I would long to be
Back where my shelter was
Watching the world
Through my window