Monday, October 27, 2008

I am borrowed for the sky

"It'll go by quick," Mr. Rosen said to us on our first day of ninth grade. I remember not believing him. I remember sitting there thinking to myself I want out of high school and I want out now.
A year after, I sat in Mr. Gozick's tenth grade honors English and listened to him say,"Dont spend your days waiting for other days." Though I thought this was a beautiful thing to say, I dont think I fully understood it's value.
Four years later, I begrudgingly admit, that they were both correct.
Today, Oct 27th of my senior year, I was sitting in my lab assistant class with Mr. Gozick. I listened to this man lecture his tenth grade comp class. He said essentially the same thing to them that he did to me years ago. Then he said, "You probably don't understand this now, but you will. Experience allows for appreciation."

My senior year. I'll be eighteen in a few months, and graduating high school only a few short months after that. I've been waiting and waiting for that day ever since fifth grade. I'm closer than I've ever been and I could not possibly be more excited. However, looking back, I'm doing something I haven't done up until this point. I'm appreciating everything I've experienced these past almost-four years.
I would not describe my high school adventure as easy, nor difficult. The years have been divided into categories of good and bad, and though some were difficult at the time, in retrospect each year and each experience aided me in ways I could not begin to understand back then. High school, or rather life in general, has offered me beauty without expecting anything in return. My life has led me to incredible people who have taught me ideas I will carry with me forever. My life has led me to understanding and accepting things that are different from myself. Because of this and so much more, I regret not a single day of my life or even my dreaded high school episode.
I owe all of what I've become to the people I've met along the way. Teachers, the man in the bookstore, and friends--true friends, I am forever indebted to you. Though most of you will never read this, or even really know it exists, I feel the need to thank you publicly. I offer my greatest appreciation to you someplace where everyone may see just what you have done for me. Thank you. My love to you all.

My Word Sketch
The other day, I was speaking with a friend. He said (though this is out of context), "the act of reaching the sky." I realized there was no single English word for this and was saddened by the thought. I then went on to think of what reaching the sky would feel like exactly. This is what I came up with:

Ascension feels like...

Tempest-tossed tummies
striding up stairs.
Crescendo past the stars
into the cloud bazaar.
Blood, bones, body stay in place.
Your skin waits to be filled.
Breathe in someone else's body.
The earth releases you; You
are borrowed for the sky.

I think this year, I've managed to reach the sky.

The photo is of me. Flying in New Zealand.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Six Secrets...

Apparently, there is this marvelous thing going around. You get tagged and you have to post six secrets about yourself. Hm..

1) I think I may love a guy who is 9 years older than me.

2) Most details about me, are lies. "I read that book!" I didnt. I read the back cover and decided it sounded like crap.

3) I made out with a friends ex-boyfriend months ago and still havent told her. Nor do I intend to.

4) I always have different intentions than other people, and let people assume we want the same things.

5) To an onlooker, I seem to have it pretty together...I dont, but kind of enjoy it that way. I'd never want to have things truly "together." I think it would get very boring, very quickly!

6) This isnt so much a secret as it is a fact: I love answering questions. I love sharing secrets with people and connecting with them. So if you really want to know something... Ask!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

You know those days when you get the mean reds...

I've got the mean reds. I'd explain it, but I don't think it's something you can really explain.

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak
: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly
: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of.

I think that feeling of "being afraid" is really your subconscious knocking at the front door. It's that silly little notion you tucked away to be "thought about later." Only, it doesnt want to be thought about later, it wants to be thought about now! But you're trying much too hard to forget, so instead of remembering it, you become afraid of it. It haunts you saying 'think of me; remember me." But you wont...or at least, you dont. Because to remember it would mean that you would have to deal with it or risk knowing yourself to be a coward.
Today, I've got the mean reds. =/