Day 1

In my unoriginality, my friend Cassy and I decided to take a 30 day blog challenge. I'm already a day behind. Ha. Oh well, none of you really care anyway.

Day 1: Introduction, recent picture, and 15 interesting facts about yourself.

I already created an introduction to my personality, my blog, my life...it's the first blogpost on here. So, don't be lazy (or do, I don't care) and go back to read it.

UGH. Recent picture? How is this relevent to my writing? OBVIOUSLY a mom created these prompts. But, hey, I'm feeling cooperative today. HERE. Enjoy it, brat.

That had absolutely nothing to do with anything.

Anyway, back to the prompt.

My 15 facts:

     1. I really hate writing facts about myself.
     2. It irks me to think I'm not as original as I'd like to be. (Hello, I have a blog...)
     3. I quite honestly love running; I just can't do it.
     4. Whenever I see moms jogging together, I want to throw rocks at them. No, I can't explain these emotions.
     5. This has taken me 15 minutes to come up 5 FACTS!
     6. I'm impatient.
     7. I miss debate.
     8. If I had the option, I'd sleep at school.
     9. I love music. Duh.
     10. In my humble opinion, you shouldn't complain unless you're perfect in the subject you're complaining about. In other words, I'M the only who's allowed to complain!
     11. I'm sarcastic. Embrace it or go away.
     12. I have a "minimalist personality".
     13. I spend more time planning for my funeral than my wedding.
     14. I love devouring delicious books. (No, I don't actually eat them...idiot.)
     15. I spell the "wrong way". ie: colour, favourite, centre, etc. (It drives my mum and Socratic teacher INSANE.)

Just so you know, having to create this post has put me in a really bad mood. But...then again, everything makes me mad.

The Old Wicker Tree

Three a.m. poetry...I'm going to bed now. When I wake up I'll call it abstract, as nothing is ever really logical at these wretched hours.

Toss your shoes
Behind the old wicker tree.
Forget your worries,
Leave your anxiety
Tucked beneath your laces.
Sink your toes
Into the soft, cool earth.
Run 'cross the dewed grass and
Release all your troubles.

Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.

Close your eyes,
See the world with your body.
Absorb the sun’s rays and
Flow with the wind
That rustles the leaves.
Let the sun melt your doubts,
The breeze swipe all suspicions.
Submerge yourself
In the gentle current waters and
Drown your uncertainties.

Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.

You tell me that
Soon enough is not fast enough.
Your clothes are sticking,
Shoulders burning,
Eyes drying,
Toes bleeding,
Personality chafing, and
Your shoes could be stolen.

Don’t act so naïve.
We’ll return soon enough.

But soon enough is never
Fast enough for you.
There is no such thing
As spare time.
Silence does not exist, and
How could it?
You have so much to do,
Your mind never rests.
Sleep is optional,
They have pills and beverages now
That force your body to be alert.
Knowledge comes from
Books alone.
Rewards are only received
When you stay in the lines,
Cross no borders,
Do what you’re told,
And work hard – nonstop.
So this is why you must go back.

Don’t grow up so fast.
Play pretend with me once more.
Feed me meals of bark and leaves,
Bring treasures on board our ship of clotheslines and sheets,
Save a damsel in distress, or
Fly to the moon.
Just don’t leave me yet.

But no. . .gather your things from
Behind the old wicker tree.
Your burdens still lie just
Beneath your laces,
Dragging you down with your
Medications,
Cups of coffee, and
Paychecks.
Was it worth it?
Eating without tasting?
Sleeping without dreaming?
Speaking without thinking?
Hearing without listening?
Breathing without living?
My dear, you’re thriving in knowledge,
But knowledge is nothing
Without wisdom.

Don’t grow up so fast.
That, love, will come sooner than you think
And you can’t go back.

Of Late, I...

1. have been paying attention.
2. depend on my fingers.
3. love notebooks
4. hate computers
5. purchased an instant camera
6. kicked a chair when I discovered the camera's battery is dead.
7. cried a little, over nothing in particular.
8. laughed a bit, over everything that doesn't work.
9. turned left at a sign that read, "Right Turn Only".
10. flew an imaginary plane 'cross a library hall.
11. pretended not to care about things that really made me want to fold up like a clam.
12. shushed my dog when he barked.
13. bruised my hip on a doorknob that wasn't there two seconds prior.
14. made a decision.
15. had a horrible nightmare.
16. wrote a poem.
17. played at Velour.
18. have been oddly generous.
19. talked to myself.
20. wished I wasn't so quiet sometimes.
21. held my breath.
22. listened a little better.
23. want an accordian.
24. needed more silence than usual.
25. made excuses.
26. wrapped my pinky in scotch tape.
27. purposely poured water on the floor.
28. spent money I don't have.
29. forgave the undeserving.
30. regret saying that.

Reoccuring Nightmares

On rare occasions, I realize that I’m not perfect.

On rarer occasions, I notice that there are other people around me.

On even rarer occasions, I see that these sociopaths whom I call “peers” are not perfect either, but try to give off that illusion and I am no different from them.

Then I roll over and go back to sleep and my obtuse mind continues to tune out the journey through high school/dystopia/Dante’s Inferno.