14
the age i was when
i loved you so much
i told you everything
i lost you
i lost myself
i was torn apart
15
the age i was when
i got my first job
i was harassed continuously by an older man
i started being completely responsible for myself
i started to spiral downward
i was still heartbroken and felt alone
16
the age i was when
i still didn't know how to put the pieces back together
i got my second job
i moved again
i wanted to quit school
i missed you so much it hurt
i couldn't stop crying
i had no money
i was hardly eating
i was living in a house that had the electricity and water turned off every other month
i was falling apart even more
17
the age i was when
i moved again
i trusted the wrong people
i really wanted to quit school
i realized that i couldn't count on anyone
i felt hopeless
18
the age i was when
i wanted to believe in love
i wanted to feel special
i wanted to trust people
i wanted to be happy
i still wasn't happy
i still wasn't whole
i still hurt so badly
i was betrayed by my family
i was hurt by lies and fakes
i was looking for more
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
what now
What now?
What now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
to the sounds of growing up
lost in the rumble of trying to jump
back to the past
because it went too fast
what now?
what now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
to the words escaping my mouth
paying attention to the back and forth
of your parents hurtful words
wishing you were a bird
what now?
what now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
for you are too busy
making things messy
attempting to distract yourself
from the fact that you're all by yourself
What now?
What now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
to the path
let's do the math
one road that holds your dreams
one road that doesn't gleam
listen to your heart
it knows the rhythm of this part
trust it
as you see fit.
What now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
to the sounds of growing up
lost in the rumble of trying to jump
back to the past
because it went too fast
what now?
what now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
to the words escaping my mouth
paying attention to the back and forth
of your parents hurtful words
wishing you were a bird
what now?
what now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
for you are too busy
making things messy
attempting to distract yourself
from the fact that you're all by yourself
What now?
What now my dear?
You are not listening I fear
to the path
let's do the math
one road that holds your dreams
one road that doesn't gleam
listen to your heart
it knows the rhythm of this part
trust it
as you see fit.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Mother refuses to abandon child, Army arrests her
The following article is from Yahoo. Click the title of my blog entry to directed to the story:
Soldier mom refuses deployment to care for baby
AP – This undated self-portrait provided by Army Spc. Alexis Hutchinson shows Spc. Hutchinson and her son, …
Slideshow:U.S. Military
Play Video Video:Injured in Iraq, war veteran now pursuing dream WRAL Raleigh
Play Video Video:Mourners grieve for soldiers killed at Fort Hood AP
By RUSS BYNUM, AP Military Writer Russ Bynum, Ap Military Writer – Mon Nov 16, 9:32 pm ET
SAVANNAH, Ga. – An Army cook and single mom may face criminal charges after she skipped her deployment flight to Afghanistan because, she said, no one was available to care for her infant son while she was overseas.
Spc. Alexis Hutchinson, 21, claims she had no choice but to refuse deployment orders because the only family she had to care for her 10-month-old son — her mother — was overwhelmed by the task, already caring for three other relatives with health problems.
Her civilian attorney, Rai Sue Sussman, said Monday that one of Hutchinson's superiors told her she would have to deploy anyway and place the child in foster care.
"For her it was like, 'I couldn't abandon my child,'" Sussman said. "She was really afraid of what would happen, that if she showed up they would send her to Afghanistan anyway and put her son with child protective services."
Hutchinson, who is from Oakland, Calif., remained confined Monday to the boundaries of Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, 10 days after military police arrested her for skipping her unit's flight. No charges have been filed, but a spokesman for the Army post said commanders were investigating.
Kevin Larson, a spokesman for Hunter Army Airfield, said he didn't know what Hutchinson was told by her commanders, but he said the Army would not deploy a single parent who had nobody to care for his or her child.
"I don't know what transpired and the investigation will get to the bottom of it," Larson said. "If she would have come to the deployment terminal with her child, there's no question she would not have been deployed."
Hutchinson's son, Kamani, was placed into custody overnight with a daycare provider on the Army post after she was arrested and jailed briefly, Larson said. Hutchinson's mother picked up the child a week ago and took him back to her home in California.
Hutchinson, who's assigned to the 3rd Combat Aviation Brigade of the Army's 3rd Infantry Division, joined the Army in 2007 and had no previous deployments, Sussman said. She said Hutchinson is no longer in a relationship with the father.
The Army requires all single-parent soldiers to submit a care plan for dependent children before they can deploy to a combat zone.
Hutchinson had such a plan — her mother, Angelique Hughes, had agreed to care for the boy. Hughes said Monday she kept the boy for about two weeks in October before deciding she couldn't keep him for a full year.
Hughes said she's already having to care for her ailing mother and sister, as well as a daughter with special needs. She also runs a daycare center at her home, keeping about 14 children during the day.
"This is an infant, and they require 24-hour care," Hughes said. "It was very, very stressful, just too much for me to deal with."
Hughes said she returned Kamani to his mother in Georgia a few days before her scheduled deployment Nov. 5.
She said they told her daughter's commanders they needed more time to find another family member or close friend to help Hughes care for the boy, but Hutchinson was ordered to deploy on schedule.
Larson, the Army post spokesman, said officials planned to keep Hutchinson in Georgia as investigators gathered facts about the case.
"Spc. Hutchinson's deployment is halted," Larson said. "There will be no deployment while this situation is ongoing."
___
Russ Bynum has covered the military based in Georgia since 2001.
MY THOUGHTS:
How is it okay to arrest a parent who asks for an extension on deployment to find someone to care for their child while they are away? It's not okay. Soldiers are the defenders of our country. They deserve respect, admiration, and support. The woman in the story I am referring to is a military cook. Is this a crucial position that only a set number of people can do? I understand that someone else should not be shipped out in her place. She signed up for the job and it was her call to be deployed. It wouldn't be fair for someone else to have to fill in for her. But she is a single parent to a 10 month old child. She doesn't have anyone to care for her child while she is away. It could be weeks, months, even a year before she is back.
The military says that single parents without another caregiver for their children are not deployed. Why was this woman arrested then?
I don't understand things sometimes.
It is a scary world for soldiers when they are deployed to places like Iraq to fight in a war that has lost it's meaning. I support my country. I support our troops. I could never do what they do. They are brave, strong, and incredible.
I could never go to a country that lacks the very things that Americans take for granted. Like clean running water, air conditioning, clean clothes, houses, food. I am very grateful and thankful for the things I have. I am thankful for the people who gave them to me.
The government should be helping our soldiers. They should be protecting them. Single parent soldiers should not face having their children forced into foster homes so that they can be deployed.
Soldier mom refuses deployment to care for baby
AP – This undated self-portrait provided by Army Spc. Alexis Hutchinson shows Spc. Hutchinson and her son, …
Slideshow:U.S. Military
Play Video Video:Injured in Iraq, war veteran now pursuing dream WRAL Raleigh
Play Video Video:Mourners grieve for soldiers killed at Fort Hood AP
By RUSS BYNUM, AP Military Writer Russ Bynum, Ap Military Writer – Mon Nov 16, 9:32 pm ET
SAVANNAH, Ga. – An Army cook and single mom may face criminal charges after she skipped her deployment flight to Afghanistan because, she said, no one was available to care for her infant son while she was overseas.
Spc. Alexis Hutchinson, 21, claims she had no choice but to refuse deployment orders because the only family she had to care for her 10-month-old son — her mother — was overwhelmed by the task, already caring for three other relatives with health problems.
Her civilian attorney, Rai Sue Sussman, said Monday that one of Hutchinson's superiors told her she would have to deploy anyway and place the child in foster care.
"For her it was like, 'I couldn't abandon my child,'" Sussman said. "She was really afraid of what would happen, that if she showed up they would send her to Afghanistan anyway and put her son with child protective services."
Hutchinson, who is from Oakland, Calif., remained confined Monday to the boundaries of Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, 10 days after military police arrested her for skipping her unit's flight. No charges have been filed, but a spokesman for the Army post said commanders were investigating.
Kevin Larson, a spokesman for Hunter Army Airfield, said he didn't know what Hutchinson was told by her commanders, but he said the Army would not deploy a single parent who had nobody to care for his or her child.
"I don't know what transpired and the investigation will get to the bottom of it," Larson said. "If she would have come to the deployment terminal with her child, there's no question she would not have been deployed."
Hutchinson's son, Kamani, was placed into custody overnight with a daycare provider on the Army post after she was arrested and jailed briefly, Larson said. Hutchinson's mother picked up the child a week ago and took him back to her home in California.
Hutchinson, who's assigned to the 3rd Combat Aviation Brigade of the Army's 3rd Infantry Division, joined the Army in 2007 and had no previous deployments, Sussman said. She said Hutchinson is no longer in a relationship with the father.
The Army requires all single-parent soldiers to submit a care plan for dependent children before they can deploy to a combat zone.
Hutchinson had such a plan — her mother, Angelique Hughes, had agreed to care for the boy. Hughes said Monday she kept the boy for about two weeks in October before deciding she couldn't keep him for a full year.
Hughes said she's already having to care for her ailing mother and sister, as well as a daughter with special needs. She also runs a daycare center at her home, keeping about 14 children during the day.
"This is an infant, and they require 24-hour care," Hughes said. "It was very, very stressful, just too much for me to deal with."
Hughes said she returned Kamani to his mother in Georgia a few days before her scheduled deployment Nov. 5.
She said they told her daughter's commanders they needed more time to find another family member or close friend to help Hughes care for the boy, but Hutchinson was ordered to deploy on schedule.
Larson, the Army post spokesman, said officials planned to keep Hutchinson in Georgia as investigators gathered facts about the case.
"Spc. Hutchinson's deployment is halted," Larson said. "There will be no deployment while this situation is ongoing."
___
Russ Bynum has covered the military based in Georgia since 2001.
MY THOUGHTS:
How is it okay to arrest a parent who asks for an extension on deployment to find someone to care for their child while they are away? It's not okay. Soldiers are the defenders of our country. They deserve respect, admiration, and support. The woman in the story I am referring to is a military cook. Is this a crucial position that only a set number of people can do? I understand that someone else should not be shipped out in her place. She signed up for the job and it was her call to be deployed. It wouldn't be fair for someone else to have to fill in for her. But she is a single parent to a 10 month old child. She doesn't have anyone to care for her child while she is away. It could be weeks, months, even a year before she is back.
The military says that single parents without another caregiver for their children are not deployed. Why was this woman arrested then?
I don't understand things sometimes.
It is a scary world for soldiers when they are deployed to places like Iraq to fight in a war that has lost it's meaning. I support my country. I support our troops. I could never do what they do. They are brave, strong, and incredible.
I could never go to a country that lacks the very things that Americans take for granted. Like clean running water, air conditioning, clean clothes, houses, food. I am very grateful and thankful for the things I have. I am thankful for the people who gave them to me.
The government should be helping our soldiers. They should be protecting them. Single parent soldiers should not face having their children forced into foster homes so that they can be deployed.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
What decides Independent Status:
For the 2009-2010 award year, the law defines an independent student as one who meets at least one of the following criteria:
* was born before Jan. 1, 1986; * is legally married on the date he or she applies ("legally married" includes applicants who are separated but not divorced); * is working on a master's or doctoral program in the 2009-2010 award year; * is currently serving on active duty in the U.S. Armed Forces (or is a member of the National Guard or Reserves called up to active federal duty for a purpose other than training); * is a veteran of the U.S. Armed Forces; * has dependent children who receive more than half of their support from the applicant; * has legal dependents, other than children or a spouse, who live with and receive more than half of their support from the applicant; * had no living parent, was in foster care, or was a dependent/ward of the court since the applicant turned age 13; * is (or was) an emancipated minor as determined by a court in the applicant's state of legal residence; * is (or was) in legal guardianship as determined by a court in the applicant's state of legal residence; * was determined by the applicant's high school or school district homeless liaison as an unaccompanied youth who was homeless at any time on or after July 1, 2008; * was determined by the director of an emergency shelter or transitional housing program funded by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development as an unaccompanied youth who was homeless at any time on or after July 1, 2008; or * was determined by the director of a runaway or homeless youth basic center or transitional living program as an unaccompanied youth who was homeless or was self-supporting and at risk of being homeless at any time on or after July 1, 2008.
A student who meets none of the above criteria is considered dependent and therefore must complete all parental questions on the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA), as well as provide a parent's signature.
You should contact the financial aid office at your school if you believe that your circumstances warrant a special determination. The school's decision is final and cannot be appealed to the U.S. Department of Education.
If you have other questions about financial aid, application procedures, eligibility formulas or other student aid topics, please contact the Federal Student Aid Information Center (FSAIC) at 1-800-4-FED-AID (1-800-433-3243) or 319-337-5665 between 8:00 a.m. and midnight EST, Monday through Friday, and 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Saturday. You may also e-mail general questions about financial aid by clicking on the "Contact Us' link at our Web site (www.FederalStudentAid.ed.gov) if you have further questions.
WHERE DO I FIT IN THIS? NOWHERE.
* was born before Jan. 1, 1986; * is legally married on the date he or she applies ("legally married" includes applicants who are separated but not divorced); * is working on a master's or doctoral program in the 2009-2010 award year; * is currently serving on active duty in the U.S. Armed Forces (or is a member of the National Guard or Reserves called up to active federal duty for a purpose other than training); * is a veteran of the U.S. Armed Forces; * has dependent children who receive more than half of their support from the applicant; * has legal dependents, other than children or a spouse, who live with and receive more than half of their support from the applicant; * had no living parent, was in foster care, or was a dependent/ward of the court since the applicant turned age 13; * is (or was) an emancipated minor as determined by a court in the applicant's state of legal residence; * is (or was) in legal guardianship as determined by a court in the applicant's state of legal residence; * was determined by the applicant's high school or school district homeless liaison as an unaccompanied youth who was homeless at any time on or after July 1, 2008; * was determined by the director of an emergency shelter or transitional housing program funded by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development as an unaccompanied youth who was homeless at any time on or after July 1, 2008; or * was determined by the director of a runaway or homeless youth basic center or transitional living program as an unaccompanied youth who was homeless or was self-supporting and at risk of being homeless at any time on or after July 1, 2008.
A student who meets none of the above criteria is considered dependent and therefore must complete all parental questions on the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA), as well as provide a parent's signature.
You should contact the financial aid office at your school if you believe that your circumstances warrant a special determination. The school's decision is final and cannot be appealed to the U.S. Department of Education.
If you have other questions about financial aid, application procedures, eligibility formulas or other student aid topics, please contact the Federal Student Aid Information Center (FSAIC) at 1-800-4-FED-AID (1-800-433-3243) or 319-337-5665 between 8:00 a.m. and midnight EST, Monday through Friday, and 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. Saturday. You may also e-mail general questions about financial aid by clicking on the "Contact Us' link at our Web site (www.FederalStudentAid.ed.gov) if you have further questions.
WHERE DO I FIT IN THIS? NOWHERE.
Education in a little place called the United States
This is posted on the White House website under President Obama's Plan for Education:
Guiding Principles:
Providing a high-quality education for all children is critical to America’s economic future. Our nation’s economic competitiveness and the path to the American Dream depend on providing every child with an education that will enable them to succeed in a global economy that is predicated on knowledge and innovation. President Obama is committed to providing every child access to a complete and competitive education, from cradle through career.
Restore America’s Leadership in Higher Education
President Obama is committed to ensuring that America will regain its lost ground and have the highest proportion of students graduating from college in the world by 2020. The President believes that regardless of educational path after high school, all Americans should be prepared to enroll in at least one year of higher education or job training to better prepare our workforce for a 21st century economy.
To accomplish these overarching goals, the President is committed to increasing higher education access and success by restructuring and dramatically expanding college financial aid, while making federal programs simpler, more reliable, and more efficient for students. The President has proposed a plan to address college completion and strengthen the higher education pipeline to ensure that more students succeed and complete their degree. His plan will also invest in community colleges to equip a greater share of young people and adults with high-demand skills and education for emerging industries.
My question:
Why isn't this happening?
Guiding Principles:
Providing a high-quality education for all children is critical to America’s economic future. Our nation’s economic competitiveness and the path to the American Dream depend on providing every child with an education that will enable them to succeed in a global economy that is predicated on knowledge and innovation. President Obama is committed to providing every child access to a complete and competitive education, from cradle through career.
Restore America’s Leadership in Higher Education
President Obama is committed to ensuring that America will regain its lost ground and have the highest proportion of students graduating from college in the world by 2020. The President believes that regardless of educational path after high school, all Americans should be prepared to enroll in at least one year of higher education or job training to better prepare our workforce for a 21st century economy.
To accomplish these overarching goals, the President is committed to increasing higher education access and success by restructuring and dramatically expanding college financial aid, while making federal programs simpler, more reliable, and more efficient for students. The President has proposed a plan to address college completion and strengthen the higher education pipeline to ensure that more students succeed and complete their degree. His plan will also invest in community colleges to equip a greater share of young people and adults with high-demand skills and education for emerging industries.
My question:
Why isn't this happening?
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Silly misunderstanding running through our minds
You
only know
so much
I
only know
so much
You
have heard nothing
I've said
I
have learned
to listen
to all
the words
even when
I don't
want
to hear
them
You
struggle
with thoughts
feelings
pains
problems
looking to
others
to solve them
I
want to
help
want
to make
it all better
for you
but
I can't
I don't
You
only
make things
WORSE
I
only
know
myself
You
want
something
that's not real
the
person
you made
me up
to be
the
idea
that I
am
special
right
for
you
That's
NOT
true
we
both know
but
You
do not
spare me
the
pity
or
the regret
of
hurting
you
I
try
to
tell
you easily
You
don't
even
believe
what you
say
about me
I
know
we
aren't meant
to be for
each other
You
know
we aren't
meant
to be
together
I
won't change
You
want comfort
I
can't give
You
want love
I
don't have
You
want sex
I
won't give
There's
no
point
to
lie
to
ourselves
anymore
You
are not
who I thought you
were
I
am not who you
want me
to be
I
am okay
with that
You
will be too.
only know
so much
I
only know
so much
You
have heard nothing
I've said
I
have learned
to listen
to all
the words
even when
I don't
want
to hear
them
You
struggle
with thoughts
feelings
pains
problems
looking to
others
to solve them
I
want to
help
want
to make
it all better
for you
but
I can't
I don't
You
only
make things
WORSE
I
only
know
myself
You
want
something
that's not real
the
person
you made
me up
to be
the
idea
that I
am
special
right
for
you
That's
NOT
true
we
both know
but
You
do not
spare me
the
pity
or
the regret
of
hurting
you
I
try
to
tell
you easily
You
don't
even
believe
what you
say
about me
I
know
we
aren't meant
to be for
each other
You
know
we aren't
meant
to be
together
I
won't change
You
want comfort
I
can't give
You
want love
I
don't have
You
want sex
I
won't give
There's
no
point
to
lie
to
ourselves
anymore
You
are not
who I thought you
were
I
am not who you
want me
to be
I
am okay
with that
You
will be too.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
A girl I used to know
Lately I have been thinking about a lot of things. Thinking about the past. I have been reflecting on the things that I have experienced. I realize I have said to many people that I have been through a lot. And I think I recently actually realized that I have been through a lot. When I think back to the jobs I've had that's a large portion of the negative situations I have endured. I never should have had to deal with half of the things I did at my jobs.
I know people usually always say what you go through makes you stronger but I don't necessarily believe that. I think the things I have experienced have made me bitter, angry, afraid, hesitant, resistant.
Friends turned out to be liars. Coworkers turned out to be jerks. I feel like the joke of the whole thing.
I was young when i first started working. Young and stupid. I trusted the people around me. I ignored things I shouldn't have because I was afraid I was reading into them or I was afraid I would get someone into trouble. I didn't defend myself like I should have. I was naive.
I have been called many names. I have been cussed out. I have been treated like an enemy. I have been conned. Have I learned from this? I'd like to think so. I think I have. Have I let it get the best of me? Probably and I don't like that. Do I let it nag me and have control over me? For a long time there was one situation in particular that I let get to me. It bothered me so badly. I thought about it all the time. Weeks, months, years later I still thought about that moment with a serious mix of emotions. Maybe that is why I am so set on being the person I want to be, the person I say I am.
I have many stories to tell and a strong desire to tell them. Rehashing them will most likely bring about a few tears, a few angry words, and a whole mess of feelings. There are truly many things that I regret but some of the outcomes I finally realize are probably for the best. If I didn't have that negative experience and jerk guy moment I would probably still be at my first job without a second thought about school. At least I know a little more about what I want now. And I know without a doubt in my mind I never wanted him. I never needed him. I never desired him. Maybe I wanted to, maybe I thought I needed to but I didn't. And that, makes me feel better about myself. I know who I am. At times I don't fully like myself. But I know what I need to work on and I know what I do like about myself. And if I ever would have allowed myself to become involved with him I would be completely different. And I would absolutely hate myself.
I know people usually always say what you go through makes you stronger but I don't necessarily believe that. I think the things I have experienced have made me bitter, angry, afraid, hesitant, resistant.
Friends turned out to be liars. Coworkers turned out to be jerks. I feel like the joke of the whole thing.
I was young when i first started working. Young and stupid. I trusted the people around me. I ignored things I shouldn't have because I was afraid I was reading into them or I was afraid I would get someone into trouble. I didn't defend myself like I should have. I was naive.
I have been called many names. I have been cussed out. I have been treated like an enemy. I have been conned. Have I learned from this? I'd like to think so. I think I have. Have I let it get the best of me? Probably and I don't like that. Do I let it nag me and have control over me? For a long time there was one situation in particular that I let get to me. It bothered me so badly. I thought about it all the time. Weeks, months, years later I still thought about that moment with a serious mix of emotions. Maybe that is why I am so set on being the person I want to be, the person I say I am.
I have many stories to tell and a strong desire to tell them. Rehashing them will most likely bring about a few tears, a few angry words, and a whole mess of feelings. There are truly many things that I regret but some of the outcomes I finally realize are probably for the best. If I didn't have that negative experience and jerk guy moment I would probably still be at my first job without a second thought about school. At least I know a little more about what I want now. And I know without a doubt in my mind I never wanted him. I never needed him. I never desired him. Maybe I wanted to, maybe I thought I needed to but I didn't. And that, makes me feel better about myself. I know who I am. At times I don't fully like myself. But I know what I need to work on and I know what I do like about myself. And if I ever would have allowed myself to become involved with him I would be completely different. And I would absolutely hate myself.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
A lesson in who I am
It's funny how we go through our daily lives not thinking about the things we actually do. Where we go. Who we are with. What we do.
I had these two days of conscience/moral checking it seems. They seemed like days that were testing me. Trying to see if I follow through on what I say I believe. I think I surprised myself with the results.
Exhibit A: guy at Best Buy. I could have easily complained about the guy and then just driven away. Instead I decided to do what I thought he should have. I pick up the case he "discarded" and took it home. I placed it in the recycling bin where I strongly feel it belongs. I picked it up from the ground. The dirty contaminated public parking lot ground. My sister seemed proud. Honestly, I was a little surprised. I am the girl who washes her hands a million times a day. I didn't freak out about it. I just did it and didn't really think about the fact that it was a step in the right direction for me. I know any one normal who reads this will think "what's the big deal? So you touched something from the ground." But OCD has had a strong hold on me. I've felt it's hold quite a bit lately. This was a good thing.
Exhibit B: An older woman was walking toward a Ross store. She was carrying a bag with her. It looked as if she were going to return some things. She was carrying the bag upside down though so the receipt fall onto the ground. She didn't even notice. My sister and I were driving by. I pointed it out to my sister who was driving. I felt bad about it. I asked her to stop and I jumped out of the car. I grabbed the receipt from the ground, the dirty filthy public ground and handed it over the woman who was about to go inside the store. She thanked me because she was indeed going to return some things. I just said your welcome and ran back to my sister's car.
These seem like little things to the average person but to me they showed me something. They showed me that I can be considerate. That I can be the person that I want to be, that people think I am. I can be nice. I can right something that I think is a wrong. It's interesting.
I had these two days of conscience/moral checking it seems. They seemed like days that were testing me. Trying to see if I follow through on what I say I believe. I think I surprised myself with the results.
Exhibit A: guy at Best Buy. I could have easily complained about the guy and then just driven away. Instead I decided to do what I thought he should have. I pick up the case he "discarded" and took it home. I placed it in the recycling bin where I strongly feel it belongs. I picked it up from the ground. The dirty contaminated public parking lot ground. My sister seemed proud. Honestly, I was a little surprised. I am the girl who washes her hands a million times a day. I didn't freak out about it. I just did it and didn't really think about the fact that it was a step in the right direction for me. I know any one normal who reads this will think "what's the big deal? So you touched something from the ground." But OCD has had a strong hold on me. I've felt it's hold quite a bit lately. This was a good thing.
Exhibit B: An older woman was walking toward a Ross store. She was carrying a bag with her. It looked as if she were going to return some things. She was carrying the bag upside down though so the receipt fall onto the ground. She didn't even notice. My sister and I were driving by. I pointed it out to my sister who was driving. I felt bad about it. I asked her to stop and I jumped out of the car. I grabbed the receipt from the ground, the dirty filthy public ground and handed it over the woman who was about to go inside the store. She thanked me because she was indeed going to return some things. I just said your welcome and ran back to my sister's car.
These seem like little things to the average person but to me they showed me something. They showed me that I can be considerate. That I can be the person that I want to be, that people think I am. I can be nice. I can right something that I think is a wrong. It's interesting.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
You wash your hands like a doctor
I have heard this many times before. I can tell you the exact moment I remember starting to freak out about washing my hands. I remember the beginnings of my OCD. Which to me is funny because I thought it was something you were born with and the start of it is unknown. I remember.
I used to be a normal girl, as normal as I have ever been anyway. I'm sure I washed my hands before I ate and what not. But I wasn't as concerned about things like that as I am now. If you don't have some type of OCD or other quirk you may not understand the full intensity and pain that can come along with it.
I have spent many conversations trying to defend my actions, my tendencies. The truth is I will never stop being judged. People will not overlook the things I do. Maybe they can't just like I can't help but do them. I understand they make no sense to you, they do to me. I understand that they are sometimes pointless but they make me feel better.
You should never point out your flaws because once you do that will be the only thing people see. They will think about it every time they see you. It will be the first thing to come to mind when your name is mentioned in conversation.
Do comments like "you wash your hands like a doctor" bother me? It depends on the day I am having. Generally, no. Sometimes, yes. Sometimes the idea of what people think of me is heavy. Sometimes it worries me, sometimes it bothers me, sometimes it makes me sad. But sometimes it doesn't.
I used to be a normal girl, as normal as I have ever been anyway. I'm sure I washed my hands before I ate and what not. But I wasn't as concerned about things like that as I am now. If you don't have some type of OCD or other quirk you may not understand the full intensity and pain that can come along with it.
I have spent many conversations trying to defend my actions, my tendencies. The truth is I will never stop being judged. People will not overlook the things I do. Maybe they can't just like I can't help but do them. I understand they make no sense to you, they do to me. I understand that they are sometimes pointless but they make me feel better.
You should never point out your flaws because once you do that will be the only thing people see. They will think about it every time they see you. It will be the first thing to come to mind when your name is mentioned in conversation.
Do comments like "you wash your hands like a doctor" bother me? It depends on the day I am having. Generally, no. Sometimes, yes. Sometimes the idea of what people think of me is heavy. Sometimes it worries me, sometimes it bothers me, sometimes it makes me sad. But sometimes it doesn't.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
a reflection brought to you by me thanks in part to postsecret.blogspot.com
It's funny how simple words can inspire you. I felt empty of words these past couple of days. I felt I had written everything I could write. That I would never finish my story or write any others. Then I saw this postcard on the postsecret blog and I felt emotions run through me. They are things I felt as a teenager. Things I thought to be true. The only things I thought I had control over. I was wrong. I was senseless. I was potentially hurting myself in an attempt to feel one small ounce of control. That was my problem. One of them. Maybe I still have trouble with that one sometimes. But seeing that postcard and all the others for that matter, makes me want to write. They make me want to fill myself with these emotions and see where the words form. What they say. What they need to say. What they feel. Everyone has a story to tell, right?
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
gasp, really I think so?
Sometimes you write something. You look back at it. You think 'wow, it was good. That was serious good. I can't believe that was good.' I just had that moment a minute ago with the sillest thing. But it felt good.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
A neverending cycle of the same damn feelings makes me feel like a broken record that no one wants to hear
Realizing you will never have a mother again is quite a hefty thought. Of course my mother will always be my mother but she is no longer here to be my mother. maybe that doesn't make sense. It does to me. This fact is a hard one to survive. Many people take their parents for granted. They are used to them always being there. But what happens when they are not?
For me I am still reeling in the emotion of not being a daughter any more. I no longer have a mother to hold me close and tell me everything will be alright. I don't have a mother I can turn to for help with the big decisions and emotions that come a long with not fully knowing yourself. I no longer have a mother to pour my heart out to instead I'm doing that here for the public to see, if they take the time to read this. Which I hope they do because if I can relate to a book someone can relate to me and I hope my story can help someone feel a little closer to okay. As I deal with and express my story I feel a little closer to okay too.
For me I am still reeling in the emotion of not being a daughter any more. I no longer have a mother to hold me close and tell me everything will be alright. I don't have a mother I can turn to for help with the big decisions and emotions that come a long with not fully knowing yourself. I no longer have a mother to pour my heart out to instead I'm doing that here for the public to see, if they take the time to read this. Which I hope they do because if I can relate to a book someone can relate to me and I hope my story can help someone feel a little closer to okay. As I deal with and express my story I feel a little closer to okay too.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Classic
It's funny. Right after I read a good book I feel a mini revolution going on inside me. I read a lot of young adult books and I can see the thoughts inside someones head when I tell them this. Okay, I can't actually see the thoughts but I have a very good idea of what those thoughts are. You're right I am very much an adult. Maybe I should read Jane Austen or hell, even Little Women but I have never been a classic kind of girl. I feel judged by the books I read and well maybe that's fair because I sometimes judge people by what they read. I know what my reading lists says about me. But those points can be argued.
I just read most of a book about a girl who is essentially orphaned and must live with her brother; because of this their relationship changes. It is about a girl trying to be brave enough to handle her emotions and feelings. She's in a scary world and she's trying to survive it. Unfortunately the way she tries to survive is not a healthy outlet. There's a lot of honesty in the book and so maybe I am feeling that. Honesty.
I know my bookshelf that I am looking at right now is filled with books that the average person would be quick to overlook. It is filled with young adult books, books I want to read but haven't, books I want to read but probably won't, books that were my mothers, books that helped me through my teenage years. I am an awkward person and I was an even more awkward teen. I think that's the way a lot of people still see me. I have this weird thing where the people closest to me don't really know me. It's bizarre and quite sad. Sometimes I just feel myself close up, block secrets from coming out. Then there are times when I can't shut up. I don't always want to tell every thing that I am feeling but I do anyway because I feel compelled to do so. I'm undecided on how I feel about that.
If someone is inspecting my books to explain who I am here's what they would get:
Lois Duncan: supernatural themes with strong characters and bonds and love.
Richie Tankersley Cusick: creative stories. strong characters. love. friendship. personal understanding.
Joan Lowery Nixon: a lot of old work. crimes that are solved too easily. families pulling apart and pushing back together. love but not too much. personal knowledge and confidence. girls that make me feel okay to be me because they are like me in small little ways.
These three authors are three of my favorites. Lois Duncan is a woman I admire. Her strength is shown in her stories. Her characters make you feel like they could be your best friend. You fall in love with them and appreciate them as the type of people you wish you knew more of. Richie Tankersley Cusick is a woman who writes intricately. Her stories are often associated with supernatural elements even when they turn out to be merely false themes. Her stories are good, page turners, stay up late to finish this great book books. Filled with characters you wish were real. Joan Lowery Nixon a woman I admire and respect. A woman whose stories have won many awards. Her writings are quite dated as they were written ages before cell phones and computers took over the world. Kids these days probably won't understand her and that makes me sad. I do remember one girl I have encountered years ago who was maybe early teens. I expressed Joan Lowery Nixon as one of my favorite authors and the young girls mother said "it's hers too." Nixon's work has this sincere truth. You can see the time she grew up in affected her writing. Her stories aren't about piling on love and lust. They are mainly about girls who are beautiful whether they know it or feel it. Girls who solve crimes and mysteries for themselves. Girls who have morals and backbones. Her stories almost make me feel like I was born in the wrong time period. They leave you wishing you were one of those beautiful, strong girls.
I admire these writers, these women. They had stories to tell and they did just that. There's a part of us in our writing. The tough part is trying to keep it as concealed and hidden as possible. It's harder than you would think.
Back to the book I mentioned earlier. The one that got me writing this speech. I could feel the girls emotions because I have had them. I still do. Maybe being able to relate to these books makes me immature. Maybe loving to read young adult novels shows the world I am not very smart. I can tell people think that when I tell them as well. Maybe it gives me away entirely. But you know what? You can't please everyone.
I am not a classics kind of girl although I wish I were. I wish I read and memorized lines from the classics. I wish I could discuss them at length with people. But no matter how hard I try I am just not built to be a classics kind of girl.
I just read most of a book about a girl who is essentially orphaned and must live with her brother; because of this their relationship changes. It is about a girl trying to be brave enough to handle her emotions and feelings. She's in a scary world and she's trying to survive it. Unfortunately the way she tries to survive is not a healthy outlet. There's a lot of honesty in the book and so maybe I am feeling that. Honesty.
I know my bookshelf that I am looking at right now is filled with books that the average person would be quick to overlook. It is filled with young adult books, books I want to read but haven't, books I want to read but probably won't, books that were my mothers, books that helped me through my teenage years. I am an awkward person and I was an even more awkward teen. I think that's the way a lot of people still see me. I have this weird thing where the people closest to me don't really know me. It's bizarre and quite sad. Sometimes I just feel myself close up, block secrets from coming out. Then there are times when I can't shut up. I don't always want to tell every thing that I am feeling but I do anyway because I feel compelled to do so. I'm undecided on how I feel about that.
If someone is inspecting my books to explain who I am here's what they would get:
Lois Duncan: supernatural themes with strong characters and bonds and love.
Richie Tankersley Cusick: creative stories. strong characters. love. friendship. personal understanding.
Joan Lowery Nixon: a lot of old work. crimes that are solved too easily. families pulling apart and pushing back together. love but not too much. personal knowledge and confidence. girls that make me feel okay to be me because they are like me in small little ways.
These three authors are three of my favorites. Lois Duncan is a woman I admire. Her strength is shown in her stories. Her characters make you feel like they could be your best friend. You fall in love with them and appreciate them as the type of people you wish you knew more of. Richie Tankersley Cusick is a woman who writes intricately. Her stories are often associated with supernatural elements even when they turn out to be merely false themes. Her stories are good, page turners, stay up late to finish this great book books. Filled with characters you wish were real. Joan Lowery Nixon a woman I admire and respect. A woman whose stories have won many awards. Her writings are quite dated as they were written ages before cell phones and computers took over the world. Kids these days probably won't understand her and that makes me sad. I do remember one girl I have encountered years ago who was maybe early teens. I expressed Joan Lowery Nixon as one of my favorite authors and the young girls mother said "it's hers too." Nixon's work has this sincere truth. You can see the time she grew up in affected her writing. Her stories aren't about piling on love and lust. They are mainly about girls who are beautiful whether they know it or feel it. Girls who solve crimes and mysteries for themselves. Girls who have morals and backbones. Her stories almost make me feel like I was born in the wrong time period. They leave you wishing you were one of those beautiful, strong girls.
I admire these writers, these women. They had stories to tell and they did just that. There's a part of us in our writing. The tough part is trying to keep it as concealed and hidden as possible. It's harder than you would think.
Back to the book I mentioned earlier. The one that got me writing this speech. I could feel the girls emotions because I have had them. I still do. Maybe being able to relate to these books makes me immature. Maybe loving to read young adult novels shows the world I am not very smart. I can tell people think that when I tell them as well. Maybe it gives me away entirely. But you know what? You can't please everyone.
I am not a classics kind of girl although I wish I were. I wish I read and memorized lines from the classics. I wish I could discuss them at length with people. But no matter how hard I try I am just not built to be a classics kind of girl.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
A blast from the past: OCTOBER 3, 2008
A thought. A reflection. A wonder.
It is crazy to me that we can actually feel emotion. How can we feel emotion? The cool air rotating around me seeps into my bones and sits there antagonizing me. Sending my mind into memories of the past and pains that I have never forgotten. It taunts me. My heart actually hurts inside my chest. I actually feel an odd displacement in the center of my chest. A shudder, maybe. A lingering feeling of sadness sitting inside of me. Making me feel hollow and unreal. Empty. How can that be? How can we feel in this way? How can we have have physical pain for our emotional wounds? Do we have emotional wounds from our physical pain? I think so. How odd.
It is crazy to me that we can actually feel emotion. How can we feel emotion? The cool air rotating around me seeps into my bones and sits there antagonizing me. Sending my mind into memories of the past and pains that I have never forgotten. It taunts me. My heart actually hurts inside my chest. I actually feel an odd displacement in the center of my chest. A shudder, maybe. A lingering feeling of sadness sitting inside of me. Making me feel hollow and unreal. Empty. How can that be? How can we feel in this way? How can we have have physical pain for our emotional wounds? Do we have emotional wounds from our physical pain? I think so. How odd.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Don't mind me I'm only blogging
I am supposed to be doing my homework right now but I have reached a point where I can not answer the questions. I could read the chapters. But honestly I don't feel like doing that. I figure I could write a short blog and see where it takes me. Maybe I will decide to read for a little while. Don't count on that. There will probably be a blog in August explaining how I failed my first class ever.
Anyway....I was going to make this a superficial blog but I am not so sure that's where I want it to go now.
I have been writing quite a bit lately about my anger. And my lack of understanding as to where that anger is coming from. I think I have an idea where a significant amount of it is coming from.
I have this whole thing about fairness. I need things to be fair but in the world there is no such thing as fair. There are people who will take your idea and run with it like it was the best thing they ever thought of. There are people who are extremely moral people and are never acknowledge for it. And then there are people who go around stealing what they want instead of working for it.
I am a girl of many opinions. I tend to voice them a little dramatically when you get the argument going. I am passionate about certain things and I am angry about assumptions which is silly because I assume things all the time. And those assumptions have led me to make an ass out of myself on numerous instances.
I don't know where I am going with this.
Anyway....I was going to make this a superficial blog but I am not so sure that's where I want it to go now.
I have been writing quite a bit lately about my anger. And my lack of understanding as to where that anger is coming from. I think I have an idea where a significant amount of it is coming from.
I have this whole thing about fairness. I need things to be fair but in the world there is no such thing as fair. There are people who will take your idea and run with it like it was the best thing they ever thought of. There are people who are extremely moral people and are never acknowledge for it. And then there are people who go around stealing what they want instead of working for it.
I am a girl of many opinions. I tend to voice them a little dramatically when you get the argument going. I am passionate about certain things and I am angry about assumptions which is silly because I assume things all the time. And those assumptions have led me to make an ass out of myself on numerous instances.
I don't know where I am going with this.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
bubbling over with anger
anger
sharp
shaking
strong
like
you
wouldn't
believe
tortured
is
what
i
am
hurt
pissed
sad
wanting
yearning
needing
just
to
scream
at
you
to
you
i
don't
care
exposed
feeling
grimy
dirty
flashy
it's
not
right
shouldn't
feel
wrong
for
being
okay
normal
feeling
hate
and
hating
hate
but
still
feel
it
unable
to
control
emotions
will
show
not
good
for
me
or
you
could
cry
but
would
that
be
a
lie
not
sure
i
should
care
same
difference
to
me
sharp
shaking
strong
like
you
wouldn't
believe
tortured
is
what
i
am
hurt
pissed
sad
wanting
yearning
needing
just
to
scream
at
you
to
you
i
don't
care
exposed
feeling
grimy
dirty
flashy
it's
not
right
shouldn't
feel
wrong
for
being
okay
normal
feeling
hate
and
hating
hate
but
still
feel
it
unable
to
control
emotions
will
show
not
good
for
me
or
you
could
cry
but
would
that
be
a
lie
not
sure
i
should
care
same
difference
to
me
True Love is only in movies
So I don't believe in true love. True love means that there is one person out there in the world who is perfect for you. One true person who will love you and you will love them. One person that you are meant to be with. Here's the thing though, if true love means you are meant to be together what about those people who break up because they don't want the same things. For example, say that I have true love with someone but he wants children and I don't. We can't stay together because he wants different things out of life. He wants a family. I don't. Some would say...then that is not true love. But my friend how can you say that? We could have everything else in common. We could care about each other, truly know and trust one another but not want the same things. True love just can't exist. It's like a rainbow. The image of it is pretty and magical but the logic of it is fuzzy and complicated. It is not what we think it is.
Princess Buttercup and Wesley might have true love but they aren't real. They just make it look romantic and possible. Giving false hope to the masses.
Princess Buttercup and Wesley might have true love but they aren't real. They just make it look romantic and possible. Giving false hope to the masses.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
I'm okay, are you okay?
It is easy to lose sight of who we are as people. It is much harder to stay the person you are. I feel this endless struggle more often lately. I wonder if who I try to be is who I am suppose to be. It becomes a confusing semi-battle with myself.
I understand that change is normal and inevitable. But I still have to wonder if it is the right thing. Am I changing because I am maturing? Am I changing because it is what I want? Am I changing because it will make me fit in better in the world around me?
I am thinking about these ideas today. The honest truth is I am different from the societal norm in so many ways. That does not make me better or worse than anyone else. I do not strive to be different, it is just who I am. It's in my blood, my soul, my heart. Or maybe it's a figment of my imagination. Maybe it is because I am terrified of being different than I am now. Honestly, either way, I think I'm okay with it.
Sometimes it seems people mistake my personal choices with something that it is not. I am not passing judgement on anyone else. I am merely doing what feels right to me, for me. Make sense?
Believe me, I realize that I judge people much more than I should. I understand this. I have the mind frame of guilty until proven innocence when it comes to people. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I let wonder get the best of me. Sometimes I let the idea of change affect me. And when I do this, I become sad.
Sadness is a relative feeling. It's an emotion we all have at some point. There are different levels of sad and different types of sad. I'm trying to stop feeling them so much. It's difficult because me and sad have been friends for a long while. But I realize it's time for me to make new friends.
I understand that change is normal and inevitable. But I still have to wonder if it is the right thing. Am I changing because I am maturing? Am I changing because it is what I want? Am I changing because it will make me fit in better in the world around me?
I am thinking about these ideas today. The honest truth is I am different from the societal norm in so many ways. That does not make me better or worse than anyone else. I do not strive to be different, it is just who I am. It's in my blood, my soul, my heart. Or maybe it's a figment of my imagination. Maybe it is because I am terrified of being different than I am now. Honestly, either way, I think I'm okay with it.
Sometimes it seems people mistake my personal choices with something that it is not. I am not passing judgement on anyone else. I am merely doing what feels right to me, for me. Make sense?
Believe me, I realize that I judge people much more than I should. I understand this. I have the mind frame of guilty until proven innocence when it comes to people. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I let wonder get the best of me. Sometimes I let the idea of change affect me. And when I do this, I become sad.
Sadness is a relative feeling. It's an emotion we all have at some point. There are different levels of sad and different types of sad. I'm trying to stop feeling them so much. It's difficult because me and sad have been friends for a long while. But I realize it's time for me to make new friends.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
I wonder why
It seems to me that the very thing you are searching for the most is the very thing you are afraid of and push away every time it gets close. The line between vulnerable and weak is a very thin one but sometimes the reason is good enough to forget the difference. I don't understand how you seemed so open and positive and full of things most people aren't. And now you seem to have lost that spark. I am sad for you. Maybe I knew a different person. Maybe you forgot who you used to be. Maybe I should remind you because you are not weak. You are strong. You are independent. And the last time I checked you were full of love to give and receive.
I want you to be happy. I want you to be confident. I want you to be you.
I want you to be happy. I want you to be confident. I want you to be you.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Postsecret Real World graduation
The following statement is on the postsecret blog comments under the graduation story.
"Emily Elizabeth said...
Going out into the "real world" is a scary concept until it hits you (and it will!) that you are already living in the real world and always have been."
When I read this I completely agreed. There are people out in the world who do not realize they are already part of the world. I don't like how at graduations people always say you will be going forward into the "real world". I don't know about you but I have been living in the real world the whole time.
The moment you realize that the world isn't going to give you everything that you want, the moment you realize that things sometimes hurt so badly that you don't know if you can stand the pain, the moment you realize you love your mother and hope to be just like her even though it is not the "cool" thing to say or feel---you are living in the real world.
When you decide to be exactly who you are and love who and what you want to you are in the real world. There are times when what you feel, want, believe, think are considered naive or immature. The times when you can acknowledge the idea and find the correlation but still feel, want, believe, and think those things with hope that they will be true---you are living in the real world.
The "real world" isn't always pretty. It isn't always safe. It isn't always what you want or hope for it to be. Take your time getting to the "real world" if you can. And when you get there try to hold on to the ideals and passion of "your world" and find a way to survive the "real world".
"Emily Elizabeth said...
Going out into the "real world" is a scary concept until it hits you (and it will!) that you are already living in the real world and always have been."
When I read this I completely agreed. There are people out in the world who do not realize they are already part of the world. I don't like how at graduations people always say you will be going forward into the "real world". I don't know about you but I have been living in the real world the whole time.
The moment you realize that the world isn't going to give you everything that you want, the moment you realize that things sometimes hurt so badly that you don't know if you can stand the pain, the moment you realize you love your mother and hope to be just like her even though it is not the "cool" thing to say or feel---you are living in the real world.
When you decide to be exactly who you are and love who and what you want to you are in the real world. There are times when what you feel, want, believe, think are considered naive or immature. The times when you can acknowledge the idea and find the correlation but still feel, want, believe, and think those things with hope that they will be true---you are living in the real world.
The "real world" isn't always pretty. It isn't always safe. It isn't always what you want or hope for it to be. Take your time getting to the "real world" if you can. And when you get there try to hold on to the ideals and passion of "your world" and find a way to survive the "real world".
Monday, May 4, 2009
Letter to my father
Dear man that married my Mother,
I can not begin to tell you how much pain you inflicted on my family. You know the worst things you did that caused pain and anger. But here are the things you don't even now you've done. maybe you do.
I never met you. I don't know what you look like. I've seen pictures, yes of course, but there's a difference between seeing someone on paper and seeing them in front of your eyes. That, I'm sure, has had some unknown effect on me. Not knowing who my father is. I know your name but nothing else. I know you are not a good man. But I don't know what I have or am because of you. Do I have characteristics like you? Do I have family that is made up of good people even though they are related to you? Do I have family that wonders who I am or what I'm like. Probably not.
You walking away is the best thing you could have done for my family. But, you being a man and owning up to your responsiblities and being a good person who doesn't hurt their family is something that you should have done. You should have been there for my mom. You should have been a father for your kids. You should have grown up. But you didn't do those things. I wonder if you have regrets about that. Probably not.
I don't feel a need to have a father but I feel the effects of not having one. There were so many times when I needed one, when my family needed one. I have great brothers and a great sister. I have a great family. We've all been through a lot. I wonder if things could have been better if we had a good father around.
I put myself through school. I paid my way through Valencia and now I am paying for UCF. I am running out of money. I don't have enough to comfortably pay my tution. I can't receive financial aid. Do you know why? Because of you. I am going to blame this on you because I have the right too. I have no father information to fill in the FAFSA. I don't have proof that you weren't in my life. I don't have documentation to be considered independent. I am angry for this. I have to find ways to PROVE my father was not in my life. That he didn't take care of me, that he didn't pay for school, that he didn't pay my bills, that he didn't care. I have to prove that you didn't exist. But how do you prove something didn't exist when it didn't exist? There's no form to fill out in high school to declare yourself fatherless. There's no option on the college application for deadbeat dad. I have fought so much about this it's not fair for me to have to fight even more.
Why do I need to have a father fill in tax information when he wouldn't be the one to pay for my school. What part of independent don't schools understand. It means I work to take care of myself. It means that I pay for school and books. It means there is no parent to help financially.
I didn't know it was possible to be so angry at someone you've never met. To have so much pain and hate for someone you can't place it on.
I hope you know the effects of your abuse and neglect and I hope it keeps you up at night.
I am my MOTHER'S daughter and so I will continue to fight. I will continue to try to pay for school. I am strong and sometimes brave. I am good and caring. I am proud and confident. And I want you to know that none of that came from you. I am who am I because of the things I learned from my mother.
Sincerely,
Amanda (do you even remember me?)
I can not begin to tell you how much pain you inflicted on my family. You know the worst things you did that caused pain and anger. But here are the things you don't even now you've done. maybe you do.
I never met you. I don't know what you look like. I've seen pictures, yes of course, but there's a difference between seeing someone on paper and seeing them in front of your eyes. That, I'm sure, has had some unknown effect on me. Not knowing who my father is. I know your name but nothing else. I know you are not a good man. But I don't know what I have or am because of you. Do I have characteristics like you? Do I have family that is made up of good people even though they are related to you? Do I have family that wonders who I am or what I'm like. Probably not.
You walking away is the best thing you could have done for my family. But, you being a man and owning up to your responsiblities and being a good person who doesn't hurt their family is something that you should have done. You should have been there for my mom. You should have been a father for your kids. You should have grown up. But you didn't do those things. I wonder if you have regrets about that. Probably not.
I don't feel a need to have a father but I feel the effects of not having one. There were so many times when I needed one, when my family needed one. I have great brothers and a great sister. I have a great family. We've all been through a lot. I wonder if things could have been better if we had a good father around.
I put myself through school. I paid my way through Valencia and now I am paying for UCF. I am running out of money. I don't have enough to comfortably pay my tution. I can't receive financial aid. Do you know why? Because of you. I am going to blame this on you because I have the right too. I have no father information to fill in the FAFSA. I don't have proof that you weren't in my life. I don't have documentation to be considered independent. I am angry for this. I have to find ways to PROVE my father was not in my life. That he didn't take care of me, that he didn't pay for school, that he didn't pay my bills, that he didn't care. I have to prove that you didn't exist. But how do you prove something didn't exist when it didn't exist? There's no form to fill out in high school to declare yourself fatherless. There's no option on the college application for deadbeat dad. I have fought so much about this it's not fair for me to have to fight even more.
Why do I need to have a father fill in tax information when he wouldn't be the one to pay for my school. What part of independent don't schools understand. It means I work to take care of myself. It means that I pay for school and books. It means there is no parent to help financially.
I didn't know it was possible to be so angry at someone you've never met. To have so much pain and hate for someone you can't place it on.
I hope you know the effects of your abuse and neglect and I hope it keeps you up at night.
I am my MOTHER'S daughter and so I will continue to fight. I will continue to try to pay for school. I am strong and sometimes brave. I am good and caring. I am proud and confident. And I want you to know that none of that came from you. I am who am I because of the things I learned from my mother.
Sincerely,
Amanda (do you even remember me?)
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Billy Collins
Madmen
They say you can jinx a poem
if you talk about it before it is done.
If you let it out too early, they warn,
your poem will fly away,
and this time they are absolutely right.
Take the night I mentioned to you
I wanted to write about the madmen,
as the newspapers so blithely call them,
who attack art, not in reviews,
but with breadknives and hammers
in the quiet museums of Prague and Amsterdam.
Actually, they are the real artists,
you said, spinning the ice in your glass.
The screwdriver is their brush.
The real vandals are the restorers,
you went on, slowly turning me upside-down,
the ones in the white doctor's smocks
who close the wound in the landscape,
and thus ruin the true art of the mad.
I watched my poem fly down to the front
of the bar and hover there
until the next customer walked in--
then I watched it fly out the open door into the night
and sail away, I could only imagine,
over the dark tenements of the city.
All I had wished to say
was that art was also short,
as a razor can teach with a slash or two,
that it only seems long compared to life,
but that night, I drove home alone
with nothing swinging in the cage of my heart
except the faint hope that I might
catch a glimpse of the thing
in the fan of my headlights,
maybe perched on a road sign or a street lamp,
poor unwritten bird, its wings folded,
staring down at me with tiny illuminated eyes.
Billy Collins
They say you can jinx a poem
if you talk about it before it is done.
If you let it out too early, they warn,
your poem will fly away,
and this time they are absolutely right.
Take the night I mentioned to you
I wanted to write about the madmen,
as the newspapers so blithely call them,
who attack art, not in reviews,
but with breadknives and hammers
in the quiet museums of Prague and Amsterdam.
Actually, they are the real artists,
you said, spinning the ice in your glass.
The screwdriver is their brush.
The real vandals are the restorers,
you went on, slowly turning me upside-down,
the ones in the white doctor's smocks
who close the wound in the landscape,
and thus ruin the true art of the mad.
I watched my poem fly down to the front
of the bar and hover there
until the next customer walked in--
then I watched it fly out the open door into the night
and sail away, I could only imagine,
over the dark tenements of the city.
All I had wished to say
was that art was also short,
as a razor can teach with a slash or two,
that it only seems long compared to life,
but that night, I drove home alone
with nothing swinging in the cage of my heart
except the faint hope that I might
catch a glimpse of the thing
in the fan of my headlights,
maybe perched on a road sign or a street lamp,
poor unwritten bird, its wings folded,
staring down at me with tiny illuminated eyes.
Billy Collins
Billy Collins
Invention
Tonight the moon is a cracker,
with a bite out of it
floating in the night,
and in a week or so
according to the calendar
it will probably look
like a silver football,
and nine, maybe ten days ago
it reminded me of a thin bright claw.
But eventually --
by the end of the month,
I reckon --
it will waste away
to nothing,
nothing but stars in the sky,
and I will have a few nights
to myself,
a little time to rest my jittery pen.
Billy Collins
Tonight the moon is a cracker,
with a bite out of it
floating in the night,
and in a week or so
according to the calendar
it will probably look
like a silver football,
and nine, maybe ten days ago
it reminded me of a thin bright claw.
But eventually --
by the end of the month,
I reckon --
it will waste away
to nothing,
nothing but stars in the sky,
and I will have a few nights
to myself,
a little time to rest my jittery pen.
Billy Collins
Monday, April 20, 2009
Nina Melito
For You
© By Nina Melito
In the room across the hall
Sitting on his bland oak chair
Sat Ned, the most popular of all
Among the other students there
Writing quietly with an intent stare.
He wrote to the one whom he cherished
With confidence in his pen
But suddenly that confidence perished
He had heard a noise just then
Like a lion pacing in his den.
He placed his feet flat on the floor
And gripped the wrinkled paper fast
And heard the squeak of the door
As the Teacher sternly asked
That up front the paper be passed.
The situation went from good to scary
His face turned a striking red
Like a freshly picked strawberry
The students whispered, 'Go on, Ned'
The teacher insisted that the note be read.
As Teacher scanned the crinkled sheet
Her face was strained and aglow
And read from Ned's horrible feat
'Dear Clarice, I must know,
Will you date me, yes or no?'
In the room across the hall
Sitting on his bland oak chair
Sat Ned, the most popular of all
Among the laughing students there
Making excuses with an embarrassed stare.
© By Nina Melito
In the room across the hall
Sitting on his bland oak chair
Sat Ned, the most popular of all
Among the other students there
Writing quietly with an intent stare.
He wrote to the one whom he cherished
With confidence in his pen
But suddenly that confidence perished
He had heard a noise just then
Like a lion pacing in his den.
He placed his feet flat on the floor
And gripped the wrinkled paper fast
And heard the squeak of the door
As the Teacher sternly asked
That up front the paper be passed.
The situation went from good to scary
His face turned a striking red
Like a freshly picked strawberry
The students whispered, 'Go on, Ned'
The teacher insisted that the note be read.
As Teacher scanned the crinkled sheet
Her face was strained and aglow
And read from Ned's horrible feat
'Dear Clarice, I must know,
Will you date me, yes or no?'
In the room across the hall
Sitting on his bland oak chair
Sat Ned, the most popular of all
Among the laughing students there
Making excuses with an embarrassed stare.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sherri Deskins
The Web
Creatively
You worked your art
You spun a web
Around my heart
How beautifully
Your deeds have spread
Each intricately
Woven thread
With strands of care
You dried my tears
Your gentleness
Dispelled my fears
Your wisdom
Helped me understand
And patiently
You held my hand
To give me courage
To brave the storm
With kindness
You have kept me warm
Your passion
Lit a glowing fire
That filled my soul
With sweet desire
You're all
That I was dreaming of
For the web you spun
Was made of love
- Written and owned by Sherri Deskins -
Creatively
You worked your art
You spun a web
Around my heart
How beautifully
Your deeds have spread
Each intricately
Woven thread
With strands of care
You dried my tears
Your gentleness
Dispelled my fears
Your wisdom
Helped me understand
And patiently
You held my hand
To give me courage
To brave the storm
With kindness
You have kept me warm
Your passion
Lit a glowing fire
That filled my soul
With sweet desire
You're all
That I was dreaming of
For the web you spun
Was made of love
- Written and owned by Sherri Deskins -
Friday, April 17, 2009
Sharon Olds
April 17: To See My Mother by Sharon Olds
A poem of ending from Sharon Olds.
To See My Mother
It was like witnessing the earth being formed,
to see my mother die, like seeing
the dry lands be separated
from the oceans, and all the mists bear up
on one side, and all the solids
be borne down, on the other, until
the body was all there, all bronze and
petrified redwood opal, and the soul all
gone. If she hadn’t looked so exalted, so
beast-exalted and refreshed and suddenly
hopeful, more than hopeful—beyond
hope, relieved—if she had not been suffering so
much, since I had met her, I do not
know how I would have stood it, without
fighting someone, though no one was there
to fight, death was not there except
as her, my task was to hold her tiny
crown in one cupped hand, and her near
birdbone shoulder. Lakes, clouds,
nests. Winds, stems, tongues.
Embryo, zygote, blastocele, atom,
my mother’s dying was like an end
of life on earth, some end of water
and moisture salt and sweet, and vapor,
till only that still, ocher moon
shone, in the room, mouth open, no song.
Listen to Sharon Olds reading “To See My Mother.”
A poem of ending from Sharon Olds.
To See My Mother
It was like witnessing the earth being formed,
to see my mother die, like seeing
the dry lands be separated
from the oceans, and all the mists bear up
on one side, and all the solids
be borne down, on the other, until
the body was all there, all bronze and
petrified redwood opal, and the soul all
gone. If she hadn’t looked so exalted, so
beast-exalted and refreshed and suddenly
hopeful, more than hopeful—beyond
hope, relieved—if she had not been suffering so
much, since I had met her, I do not
know how I would have stood it, without
fighting someone, though no one was there
to fight, death was not there except
as her, my task was to hold her tiny
crown in one cupped hand, and her near
birdbone shoulder. Lakes, clouds,
nests. Winds, stems, tongues.
Embryo, zygote, blastocele, atom,
my mother’s dying was like an end
of life on earth, some end of water
and moisture salt and sweet, and vapor,
till only that still, ocher moon
shone, in the room, mouth open, no song.
Listen to Sharon Olds reading “To See My Mother.”
Sweet
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090416/ap_on_re_us/mystery_gifts
Mystery donors give over $45M to 9 universities
DES MOINES, Iowa – A mystery is unfolding in the world of college fundraising: During the past few weeks, at least nine universities have received gifts totaling more than $45 million, and the schools had to promise not to try to find out the giver's identity.
One school went so far as to check with the IRS and the Department of Homeland Security just to make sure a $1.5 million gift didn't come from illegal sources.
"In my last 28 years in fundraising ... this is the first time I've dealt with a gift that the institution didn't know who the donor is," said Phillip D. Adams, vice president for university advancement at Norfolk State University, which received $3.5 million.
The gifts ranged from $8 million at Purdue to $1.5 million donated to the University of North Carolina at Asheville. The University of Iowa received $7 million; the University of Southern Mississippi, the University of North Carolina at Greensboro and the University of Maryland University College got $6 million each; the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs was given $5.5 million; and Penn State-Harrisburg received $3 million.
It's not clear whether the gifts came from an individual, an organization or a group of people with similar interests. In every case, the donor or donors dealt with the universities through lawyers or other middlemen. Some of the money came in cashier's checks, while other schools received checks from a law firm or another representative.
All the schools had to agree not to investigate the identity of the giver. Some were required to make such a promise in writing.
"Our chancellor was called to a Denver law office and had to sign a confidentiality agreement that she would not try to find out," said Tom Hutton, spokesman at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs. "Once the chancellor signed it, she was emphatic that we don't try to find out."
Each was delivered since March 1 and came with the same stipulation: Most of the money must be used for student scholarships, and the remainder can be spent on various costs such as research, equipment, strategic goals and operating support.
"We have no idea who this generous individual is, but we're extremely grateful," said Lynette Marshall, president and chief executive of the University of Iowa foundation. "This is the first time in my 25-year career that something of this magnitude has happened."
Usually when schools receive anonymous donations, the school knows the identity of the benefactor but agrees to keep it secret. Not knowing who is giving the money can raise thorny problems.
William Massey, vice chancellor for alumni and development at UNC-Asheville, said the school contacted the Department of Homeland Security and the IRS to make sure the money was legal before accepting it.
"There may be an ethical problem if you knowingly accept funds from ill-gotten gains," said Colorado Springs' Hutton. University officials "do due diligence and ask the appropriate questions and receive satisfactory answers."
The $6 million donated to the University of Southern Mississippi was the largest single gift ever bestowed to the school.
"It was a remarkable gift particularly during these economic times," said David Wolf, vice president of advancement.
"I think somebody is out there, or potentially a group of people, that has a great respect for the value of a college education and the power that it brings," Wolf said. "Gosh, if it's the same person or the same collective group of people, it's an amazing story."
Mystery donors give over $45M to 9 universities
DES MOINES, Iowa – A mystery is unfolding in the world of college fundraising: During the past few weeks, at least nine universities have received gifts totaling more than $45 million, and the schools had to promise not to try to find out the giver's identity.
One school went so far as to check with the IRS and the Department of Homeland Security just to make sure a $1.5 million gift didn't come from illegal sources.
"In my last 28 years in fundraising ... this is the first time I've dealt with a gift that the institution didn't know who the donor is," said Phillip D. Adams, vice president for university advancement at Norfolk State University, which received $3.5 million.
The gifts ranged from $8 million at Purdue to $1.5 million donated to the University of North Carolina at Asheville. The University of Iowa received $7 million; the University of Southern Mississippi, the University of North Carolina at Greensboro and the University of Maryland University College got $6 million each; the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs was given $5.5 million; and Penn State-Harrisburg received $3 million.
It's not clear whether the gifts came from an individual, an organization or a group of people with similar interests. In every case, the donor or donors dealt with the universities through lawyers or other middlemen. Some of the money came in cashier's checks, while other schools received checks from a law firm or another representative.
All the schools had to agree not to investigate the identity of the giver. Some were required to make such a promise in writing.
"Our chancellor was called to a Denver law office and had to sign a confidentiality agreement that she would not try to find out," said Tom Hutton, spokesman at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs. "Once the chancellor signed it, she was emphatic that we don't try to find out."
Each was delivered since March 1 and came with the same stipulation: Most of the money must be used for student scholarships, and the remainder can be spent on various costs such as research, equipment, strategic goals and operating support.
"We have no idea who this generous individual is, but we're extremely grateful," said Lynette Marshall, president and chief executive of the University of Iowa foundation. "This is the first time in my 25-year career that something of this magnitude has happened."
Usually when schools receive anonymous donations, the school knows the identity of the benefactor but agrees to keep it secret. Not knowing who is giving the money can raise thorny problems.
William Massey, vice chancellor for alumni and development at UNC-Asheville, said the school contacted the Department of Homeland Security and the IRS to make sure the money was legal before accepting it.
"There may be an ethical problem if you knowingly accept funds from ill-gotten gains," said Colorado Springs' Hutton. University officials "do due diligence and ask the appropriate questions and receive satisfactory answers."
The $6 million donated to the University of Southern Mississippi was the largest single gift ever bestowed to the school.
"It was a remarkable gift particularly during these economic times," said David Wolf, vice president of advancement.
"I think somebody is out there, or potentially a group of people, that has a great respect for the value of a college education and the power that it brings," Wolf said. "Gosh, if it's the same person or the same collective group of people, it's an amazing story."
Friday, April 10, 2009
Billy Collins
I Ask You
What scene would I want to be enveloped in
more than this one,
an ordinary night at the kitchen table,
floral wallpaper pressing in,
white cabinets full of glass,
the telephone silent,
a pen tilted back in my hand?
It gives me time to think
about all that is going on outside--
leaves gathering in corners,
lichen greening the high grey rocks,
while over the dunes the world sails on,
huge, ocean-going, history bubbling in its wake.
But beyond this table
there is nothing that I need,
not even a job that would allow me to row to work,
or a coffee-colored Aston Martin DB4
with cracked green leather seats.
No, it's all here,
the clear ovals of a glass of water,
a small crate of oranges, a book on Stalin,
not to mention the odd snarling fish
in a frame on the wall,
and the way these three candles--
each a different height--
are singing in perfect harmony.
So forgive me
if I lower my head now and listen
to the short bass candle as he takes a solo
while my heart
thrums under my shirt--
frog at the edge of a pond--
and my thoughts fly off to a province
made of one enormous sky
and about a million empty branches.
Billy Collins
What scene would I want to be enveloped in
more than this one,
an ordinary night at the kitchen table,
floral wallpaper pressing in,
white cabinets full of glass,
the telephone silent,
a pen tilted back in my hand?
It gives me time to think
about all that is going on outside--
leaves gathering in corners,
lichen greening the high grey rocks,
while over the dunes the world sails on,
huge, ocean-going, history bubbling in its wake.
But beyond this table
there is nothing that I need,
not even a job that would allow me to row to work,
or a coffee-colored Aston Martin DB4
with cracked green leather seats.
No, it's all here,
the clear ovals of a glass of water,
a small crate of oranges, a book on Stalin,
not to mention the odd snarling fish
in a frame on the wall,
and the way these three candles--
each a different height--
are singing in perfect harmony.
So forgive me
if I lower my head now and listen
to the short bass candle as he takes a solo
while my heart
thrums under my shirt--
frog at the edge of a pond--
and my thoughts fly off to a province
made of one enormous sky
and about a million empty branches.
Billy Collins
Elizabeth Bishop
One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
Elizabeth Bishop
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
National Poetry Month
L.E.L. (Letitia Elizabeth Landon) . {3}
(1802 - 1838) English Poet
The Poor
FEW, save the poor, feel for the poor:
The rich know not how hard
It is to be of needful food
And needful rest debarred.
Their paths are paths of plenteousness,
They sleep on silk and down;
And never think how heavily
The weary head lies down.
They know not of the scanty meal,
With small pale faces round;
No fire upon the cold, damp hearth
When snow is on the ground.
They never by the window lean,
And see the gay pass by;
Then take their weary task again,
But with a sadder eye.
L.E.L.
(1802 - 1838) English Poet
The Poor
FEW, save the poor, feel for the poor:
The rich know not how hard
It is to be of needful food
And needful rest debarred.
Their paths are paths of plenteousness,
They sleep on silk and down;
And never think how heavily
The weary head lies down.
They know not of the scanty meal,
With small pale faces round;
No fire upon the cold, damp hearth
When snow is on the ground.
They never by the window lean,
And see the gay pass by;
Then take their weary task again,
But with a sadder eye.
L.E.L.
Friday, April 3, 2009
a fear in me, a fear in you, a fear i don't know if i can face
A hidden face
A mysterious place
I'm not sure I like this
A fear that bubbles to the top
An uncertainty I have entertained before
Will it change?
Will it grow?
Oh no.....
I can not take it back
I have to keep my word
oh no.....
I don't want to be rude
But really I don't know.
A mysterious place
I'm not sure I like this
A fear that bubbles to the top
An uncertainty I have entertained before
Will it change?
Will it grow?
Oh no.....
I can not take it back
I have to keep my word
oh no.....
I don't want to be rude
But really I don't know.
national poetry month
It's poetry month. In celebration (because I am seriously excited!) I will be trying very hard to post a new poem on my blog each day, maybe even more than one a day depending on how many I find that I love. And maybe I will even include some of my own. You'll notice the difference, mine will be the ones that suck.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poetrytool.html This site is awesome.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poetrytool.html This site is awesome.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
This didn't really help the feeling
BREATHE
sigh
sing
BREATHE
sigh
shout
BREATHE
deep
let
it
out
BREATHE
in
and
out
BREATHE
sigh
it's
alright
BREATHE
sigh
let
it
go
BREATHE
sigh
don't
cry
sigh
sing
BREATHE
sigh
shout
BREATHE
deep
let
it
out
BREATHE
in
and
out
BREATHE
sigh
it's
alright
BREATHE
sigh
let
it
go
BREATHE
sigh
don't
cry
Thursday, March 26, 2009
It's all about the timing......
It's all about the timing. Things don't line up as you wish they would. Maybe it's the world trying to stop my desperation. I understand that and actually commend it. Thank you world, for telling me to stop it. It makes sense. Completely it does. But I can't help but wonder. What if the timing lined up perfectly? Would a change occur? Would something new start? Or is it better that the timing just refuses to line up right. I realize now it is partly my fault. I misjudged. I got it wrong. But only slightly. Wouldn't it still line up? I guess it's not meant to be. Oh well, what can you do. Now, if I could just stop thinking about it.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Coincidences may just be Coincidences.....
Yesterday I started writing just to write. I was going to elborate on a story I had started but it didn't feel right. So I start on this new work. I wrote whatever came to mind. As I was writing it gradually started to take on more of my memories of my mom's illness. The things I felt, the things I thought she felt, the time, the sadness. This caused me to remember the pain of everyone involved. It hurt. It made me sad. It made me angry.
Anyway, I was thinking about her again today. Rehashing some feelings, comtemplating how things could/would have been different. I was just thiking of my mother.
I went into this store that has a collection of random things. It's where I got my camera and typewriter from. I was drving past and thinking about going in. I have homework to do and so I debated with myself. Should I go see if I find anything I want in the store? Or should I be responsible and go home and do my homework?
I made a U-turn at the light and went to the store. I went first to the camera section because I want a Brownie camera. I looked around at the small wooden boxes because I love them for some odd reason. Then I made me way to the mountains of records. I stopped by this area with mirrors and chairs first. There on the table I saw the same mirror that my mother had bought my sister and I for Christmas a long, long time ago. I stopped and looked at it. It isn't an expensive or old mirror. It shouldn't really be in a store about "collectibles". I obviously thought of my mom. I drove home and pulled into the driveway. And a single bird flew from my house as I parked. I'm sure only the people close to my family know what that means to us. I didn't even really see it happend at the time I am referring to but it still means something. I go unlcok my front door and there's a flier for a church or something religious. I am not a religious person so I will leave that as a coincidence to inspire me to keep believing in what I believe. I believe sometimes coincidences are a way to remind us that feeling is okay but dwelling is not. It take it as a reminder of the love from my mother and other things I won't go into.
I should actually do my homework now.
Anyway, I was thinking about her again today. Rehashing some feelings, comtemplating how things could/would have been different. I was just thiking of my mother.
I went into this store that has a collection of random things. It's where I got my camera and typewriter from. I was drving past and thinking about going in. I have homework to do and so I debated with myself. Should I go see if I find anything I want in the store? Or should I be responsible and go home and do my homework?
I made a U-turn at the light and went to the store. I went first to the camera section because I want a Brownie camera. I looked around at the small wooden boxes because I love them for some odd reason. Then I made me way to the mountains of records. I stopped by this area with mirrors and chairs first. There on the table I saw the same mirror that my mother had bought my sister and I for Christmas a long, long time ago. I stopped and looked at it. It isn't an expensive or old mirror. It shouldn't really be in a store about "collectibles". I obviously thought of my mom. I drove home and pulled into the driveway. And a single bird flew from my house as I parked. I'm sure only the people close to my family know what that means to us. I didn't even really see it happend at the time I am referring to but it still means something. I go unlcok my front door and there's a flier for a church or something religious. I am not a religious person so I will leave that as a coincidence to inspire me to keep believing in what I believe. I believe sometimes coincidences are a way to remind us that feeling is okay but dwelling is not. It take it as a reminder of the love from my mother and other things I won't go into.
I should actually do my homework now.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Different
I just can't understand people. How can you be exactly what you hate? How can you openly say things but still pursue? I don't understand you. Really. It kind of makes me angry. I don't understand if you have always been this way or if this a new thing from that happend of the years. You used to care. You used to be strong. Now you seem to fall for anything and attempt to make people fall for anything. I don't understand.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Lois Duncan
Lois Duncan is an author grew up here in Florida. She is an incredibly talented storyteller. She particularly writes young adult novels but she has also published a few adult works as well. I grew up reading her books and continue to love them now. They are creative, intense stories. Many of them have a supernatural theme to them. I just felt the need to praise her work. Awesome Lois Duncan! Thank you for writing books that inspired me. You can click the title of this blog to be taken to her website.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Just a simple bike ride
I just got back from a bike ride. It was nice. My lovely sister bought me a beautiful bike for Christmas. Yes she is awesome. I have already fallen in love with my bike. I rode around my neighborhood and past places I've known since I was a child. The grocery store I used to go to with my mother and sister. The store where my aunt works her second job. The spot where the old Movie theatre used to be but has recently been converted into two separate stores. It's funny that the theatre actually lasted as long as it did in that spot. Its not really a neighborhood per se. At least not what I would define as a traditional neighborhood but I suppose it is the norm in Florida. The theatre only had two screens if I do recall correctly. One on the right and one on the left with the concession stand in the center. I loved that place. I miss it a lot. It was nice to go a few blocks over and see a movie. That's the place were I saw The Lion King and fell in love with it. It became my favorite movie for years. I was pretty obsessed with it. I saw Sixth Sense there with my mom and sister. And tons of other movies that I was too young to remember. It was a family spot. It has a special place in my heart. There are a lot of places that are dear to me. Places were I can drive past and practically feel the memories play out in front of me as if they only happened yesterday though they did not. The park where I fed ducks with my oldest brother when I was four. Where I had lunch with my mom and sister when I was older. Where all of us kids played and caused trouble. The gas station down the road where we would stop to buy candy on the walk home. The pizza place where my family would go to eat about once a week or so. The McDonald's where we would have lunch after a day of errands. Where we were spoiled with ice cream even though we didn't have much money. The Dairy Queen that I can literally picture my mother sitting in the back booth that is no longer there. The Middle school where one of my most embarrassing public humiliation stories happened. Where one of the "toughest, meanest" teachers warmed her heart to me. Subtly, but I knew I proved something to her that she wasn't expecting. The houses my family used to share. The store we bought our dinning room table that is currently behind me. Where I recently revisited to buy my bookshelf. There are places and people that warm our hearts and spark our memories. Places where we learned more about ourselves. Places we spent treasured time with loved ones. Places that make us feel better and hurt us at the same time. Crazy that this blog is a result of a bike ride around a place I know. I just got to see it in a different way, taking time to think them over.
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