Archive | April, 2012

it begins.

30 Apr

That feeling’s come again.

It consumes me.

The need for long, lazy, lethargic days of lounging about and laughing with friends.

The want of sunkissed shoulders, flowery dresses, and short hair.

The craving of ice cream, lemonade, and late night pizza.

The freedom to read and read and read and read and read all day long.

The ability to sleep in late, stay up all night, and write whenever I so please.

Summer, summer, summer.

I am ready for you.


“People say friends don’t destroy one another; what do they know about friends?”

28 Apr

Last week a friend expressed to me how I don’t really seem to open up around her. This is something I’ve noticed about myself quite a lot in the last couple years. Compared to how I was in high school, and middle school even, I never really seem to open up and express my inner workings with my friends. This has baffled me for a while as to why this is the case when it comes to me, but more recently, after putting a lot of thought into the problem, I think I’ve come up with the root of why I’ve been withdrawing so much of my emotion over the years and only being able to truly express my feelings through the internet/poetry.

It’s my friends.

No, okay, let me restate that. It’s not all of my friends, and I don’t want to go pointing any fingers. It’s just… I’ve noticed, lately, that most of the people I claim to be closest with are the ones I don’t open up to, and I know the reasons why. Today I had lunch with a friend who always goes on and on about things going on in her, but when I opened up about one thing that I’ve been holding onto she changed the subject back to herself within a minute. I have another friend who, quite literally, never asks me how my day is going, even though I always ask her about her day. One of my closest friends throughout my college life, whenever I try to engage her in talk, constantly changes the subject and acts like she doesn’t care. Another friend doesn’t seem interested in talking with me unless she’s in desperate need to talk to someone. And the list goes on.

Now, I love all these people and I’m glad I have them in my life, but I’m so confused. Why does it seem that I’m the only good listener that I know? How come my friends are allowed to continuously talk about themselves, but never inquire about me? Is that selfish to ask? Is it wrong to want someone to ask me how my day is going or about developments in my life? And when I do decide to share, why does everyone suddenly act as if they don’t care?

There’s a guy I like, who I’ve alluded to in the past on my wordpress, and the whole situation is complicated and I haven’t told many people about him. I’ve opened up three times to three of my closest friends. I went in hoping for advice, and all of them shut the conversation down right away. It had nothing to do with the guy or the goings on between us; they just changed the subject.

I think this is a big factor into why I have such a hard time opening up nowadays. I feel like people don’t care when I do. I find myself opening up to people to be this big, huge gesture, but whenever I do the person on the receiving end acts as if they couldn’t care less. And this hurts. This hurts a goddamn lot, and it’s why I’ve turned to writing up blog entries on my tumblr and wordpress, because there’s a much more likely chance of reaching out to someone who cares on there then anyone I talk to in person.

And obviously this it not directed at all of my friends. I can think of a good number of people who do give a shit about what I have to say, and I honestly don’t know why I don’t’ reach out to them more often. And maybe this is a sign that I should start sticking up for myself more often. Maybe make it more known to friends that it is important that one sided relationships don’t exist.

I just feel tired of being treated like a waste basket, with people constantly dumping their problems and worries on me. I would like to have human connections, repeatedly and as often as possible with everyone I know.

Is that too much to ask for?

random thought.

27 Apr

I wish there was a TV channel that constantly played reruns of Whose Line is it Anyway, Friends, Frasier, Arrested Development, Parks and Recreation, and Golden Girls. That would be the perfect television station.


26 Apr

It feels like there’s a boulder tethered to my pumping heart
dragging it






into the pit of my stomach
all because of you.

My “Brave” Theory (I couldn’t BEAR to keep it in any longer)

25 Apr

I realize that over the course of the last four and a half months since I first started this wordpress I have gained the most followers when I am posting my poetry, the prose about boys, well worded reflections on certain subjects, and, well, my most articulate work.

Today is not one of those days.

This entry is dedicated to me geeking out about a theory I’ve got for the movie Brave.

Yes. The Pixar one.

I am, at this point, fairly certain this theory is accurate. So for you who hate spoilers (which I know that I do), please note that POSSIBLE SPOILERS MAY HAPPEN FROM HERE ON OUT. (Possible because I don’t actually know if I’m spoiling anything… but I very well could be… but I very well could not be… but I very well could be… but I – ugh! You see my dilemma?)

Anyway. Yes. Brave.

Continue reading


24 Apr

I’ll go.
I’ll go.
I’ll go.
I’ll go.
I’ll go.
I’ll go.
I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go,
I will go.
I have to go.
If I don’t then he’s gonna show
up here, at my door, whether I tell him yes or no.
He does not listen, no
matter how much I beg and crow.
He’ll just keep calling me until I come over. There’s no
winning against this schmoe.
He’ll make me feel guilty for trying to forgo
the inevitable. This is ridiculous, so
I will go…

You know
something? I don’t want to go.
I want to go
back to my sick tableau
of sleeping all day, eating soup, trying not to throw
up. That’s all I want, this one plateau,
but he does not care. He always has to be numero
even though
I know
he knows that I am sick. He does not care so
long as he gets what he wants. That’s all that matters to Mr. Apropos.

Him with the parents who treat him like he’s a prince for show.
Him who is adored and praised by every Mary Jane and John Doe
imaginable. Him who can lasso
and outsmart every teacher that we know.
Him with so
many grand ideas that constantly flow
from his mind. Him with a girl so
perfect she could set a stone cold heart aglow.
That clever little bastard who has it all in tow
when I have nothing to live for. I’m no
one’s beau.
I’m no
one’s hero.
I’m no
comparison in my father’s eyes when it comes between me and his dough.
Just me, alone, with my own sad story of woe
that no
one wants to know.
An invisible boy just trying to graduate before summer starts to show.
An invisible boy, invisible to all… Although,

there is one exception to this endearing low.
One clever little bastard, who’s been the only real friend I’ve ever come to know
and no
matter what I undergo
he has yet to outgrow
me. Says this is no
quid pro
Claims he’ll always know
me. Claims I’m his best friend on this entire planet, even though
he could have any best friend that he wants because he is so
loved by all. Instead, he chose me. Why, I’ll never know,
but he did. He who made me not invisible, he who helped me grow,
And for that I owe
him more than he will ever know.
He is my friend. He is my hero.


I will go.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

The second slam poem in my set of Fictional Perspective pieces.

Need a hint whose POV this is from? Well, the first Perspective poem I wrote was from the POV of Kate Austen from LOST, and the poem is entitled “Ostentatious”. This poem is called “Fried”. So. Glean what you’d like.

Thankful for the Weekend

22 Apr

This weekend has been lovely. Beyond lovely. I don’t even know how to put it into works.

I had a pleasant chat with the nice girl at Starbucks who always asks me if I work for OSF. I babysat some kids and got to put some of the money I made into my tattoo savings stash. I watched AtlantisThe Lost Empire for the first time in close to ten years with Beth, Robin, and their dog. I got some really great feedback on the poem I posted yesterday. The roommates and I had a mature conversation about moving out in June and are now all on the same page. I was given free doughnuts, cookies, and pie all in the span of twelve hours. I’ve interacted with a lot of really sweet, really wonderful people. My boss’s daughter brought me (free!) coffee this morning. Nick’s mom is in town and is taking him, Kyle, Zach, and myself out to dinner tonight. I just found out I have no Technical Writing homework due tomorrow. And, to top it all off, the sun has been shining and Ashland weather has been absolutely gorgeous.

Oh yes. Life does not get much better than this.

This weekend has been a great reminder that crushes do not make or break a life, let alone a weekend (and that priorities need lie elsewhere at times). It has also been viable proof that the sun puts me in a much better mood. I felt all charismatic and enthusiastic yesterday, and that has certainly carried on over to today as well. While I’m bummed that tomorrow means another day of school, this weekend has done a great job re-energizing me. It’s given me hope that this year, maybe this one time, I will have a spring term that does not completely kill my soul. It’s given me the drive to go on for one more week, making me one week closer to summer. It’s given me back my days of tank top and sun dress wearing.

It’s given me a reason to smile.

Now let’s see how long I can hold onto this feeling of grandeur before the depression of school takes hold and I go back to complaining about the crush being quite unattainable and I start whining about how badly I want summer to be here.