Paradise

Cold Water Surrounds Me

I'm covering my wall in paper. Paper with my future written all over. Where I want to go and where I am and where I wish I was. All the places in story books that really exist now cover my wall. And instead of the maps making me happy, they just make me restless. I lay on my bed looking at adventure and wondering if I'll ever taste it or if it will always be just out of my reach...I'm afraid that I can't walk the walk.
Instead I'll be stuck in this limbo where I have to get root canals, and nitrous is the closest thing to drugs in my life. I'll be glued to my calculus book and attending math banquets. I'll feel proud about front page newspaper layouts and 98% test scores. I'll be stuck, even when all I want to do is scream, "I DON'T CARE ABOUT  PHYSICS" and silently sob because my life is so pathetic.
In the back of my mind there lives a sliver of hope for the future, but it's surrounded by the bleak and black fear that I will never get to be happy like I think I should deserve to want to be. But when light is surrounded by darkness, no matter how small the amount, it only shines brighter. And sometimes the only thing that gets me through Edgar Allan Poe videos that have nothing to do with poetry and times when girls are ignorant fools and I just want to yell at them is the small light illuminating the corner of my brain.

Lord, can you hear me now, or am I lost?

The Blink of an Eye

They say that not all distractions are bad. They say that sometimes they get in the way, however, and should be eliminated. I beg to differ.

No, I am not saying that phones should never be turned off and tabloids should be read on a frequent basis. I'm saying quite the opposite, really. Shove your phone down disposal if you need to. Break your pencil in half if having it in your hand makes you feel guilty for not finishing your math homework. Shrug away responsibility for just a second.Turn off the Tv, take out all the light bulbs and light candles. And then, my friends, let yourself be distracted.

Let your thoughts take you into unknown worlds.

Because Picasso wasn't supposed to be a painter, but how could he sit and do arithmetic when his mind was with his art supplies?

Steve Jobs couldn't work part time when he was constantly distracted by the endless possibilities of technology. 

J.K. Rowling should have been trying to find any job she could get to scrape by, but a boy by the name of Harry Potter wouldn't let her sit there and be ordinary.

And when people told Walt Disney that "he lacked imagination and had no good ideas" he should have settled for a nine to five job, even if all day he was distracted by a little black mouse and his darling wife.

So to all those who tell us to focus on our studies and choose a stable career, we say to you that we will never cease to let our minds wander. Because wandering into the unknown is what created that iPhone in your hand and made the 9,237 Disney movies sitting on your shelf. Failure gave birth to Harry Potter and the Oprah Winfrey show. Distraction gave us art, and music, and the ability to express the deepest parts of ourselves for the whole world to see. So if you are willing to give up everything worth savoring, then by all means, tell me to rid myself of distractions. 

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but without it, the cat had nothing to live for anyway.

I owe it all to you.

I'm going to spare all of you from the dramatic and idealistic ramble that I am dying to write.
Best Sadies Ever.
It was absolutely perfect.

Pardon my French, but WHAT THE H.E. DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS JUST HAPPENED?

I was going for a kiss on the cheek. Another girl had the other cheek covered. Just a quick "Good Job" peck on the cheek. No big deal. And then he turned his head, and I kissed Bentley Rawle.
Him: "Uhhhhh"
Me: "Good Job Bentley. That was close."

I went into this state of shock. And then the immature side of me came out and I did the only sensible thing: I ran. I ran into the locker room and collapsed on the floor. If you were wondering if I can make the sound of a dying pig, I've got your answer. I can. Just make me half kiss one of the hottest boys you know and you'll see a side of me you will forever try to erase from your memory.

Hey, no regrets, right? It's a good story. It's not like it matters.
So much regret. So embarrassing. My life is over.

Why We Love Saturdays

I'm Not Yours

I wish I had words.
But for now I'm just content with a song I wish I could write.

Do you ever wish you could fly?

Is Matthew Gray Gubler my dream guy?

Is the world round?

Are you reading this right now?

Do you like milkshakes?

Do hearts get broken?

Is life hard?

What was Griffins response?

YES.

I do.

The truth never really comes out.
Mostly we just choose to call what we wish the world was "reality" and what we know it to be "exaggeration", because sometimes lying is easier. 

But still I'm here, trying to tell it.
Here it is. The truth, and nothing but it.

The truth is I was sad. You asked me if I was sad and I said "No!" like it was ridiculous, but really I was trying not to cry and desperately making an effort to keep my voice was shaking. I think you knew anyway.

The truth is I blame one person. And I blame him for the pile of banana peels that seems to be most of my life.

The truth is that I hate writing. Not the verb, the noun. I hate it because people can hide behind their words and strangers, or in some cases people they know, are fooled into thinking that this mystery writer is something that they are not. That they are educated when really the just use thesaraus.com and that they actually care about what they are writing. (If you're reading this, it isn't about you, i think)

The truth is I have a secret blog. And I think if you read it, you may just call me "freak".

The truth is a small part of me wants to post the url right here .

The truth is I'm tired. I'm tired of insincerity and whining about things that don't matter when serious things have happened/are happening to me, and to most people I would assume. I feel like shouting sometimes. Screaming things like "YOU'RE LIFE ISN'T HARD" and "IF YOU ONLY KNEW" but then I would be a hypocrite, because I'm just as whiny as the next angsty teen.

The truth is there is one person who've I told everything to, and now whenever I talk to him people think it means something that it doesn't. And so I stay silent.

The truth is 1/2 of me is excited about life, and the other 1/2 is utterly terrified.

but it goes on, now, doesn't it?

-M