Be forewarned. this is a rant [slightly]
I'm convinced that boys, in general, thoroughly dislike me. I'm not sure why... but I'm always exponentially better at being the "friend". Yet, I look at some of the girls that guys hook up with or ask out on dates ect and I wonder. " WHY HER? WHY? WHAT MAKES HER ANYMORE CAPABLE OF GETTING A DATE OR BOYFRIEND OVER ME? am I not pretty enough? am I too annoying? Maybe I'm not good enough." and those thoughts pain me. I live in fear of those thoughts because I know that in reality I AM better than that. I AM beautiful, exactly as I am.
I DON'T WANT TO CHANGE FOR LOVE.
why then is it so widely accepted that the girl has to be what the boy wants. How come girls like me have to go out of their way to get a freaking date. It shouldn't be that hard. All we want to do is hang out, be treated well. BUT NO. the classy ladies NEVER get asked out, because A) some other girl is totally desperate and asks them [the boy] out while the classy lady is waiting for the boy B) the girl lifts the pressure off the boy to be some thing that American culture has said they should be and the boy doesn't want to loose that which leads to C) "I don't want to ruin our friendship" leading to D) I don't want a girlfriend, but then they are introduced to the best friend and they start going out and thennnnnnnn it just goes down hill. Classy ladies are hurt either way. because they either 1)we're totally okay with it, but no one realizes it or 2) we're totally okay with it, but not one realizes it. There is just no way to win? Is there.
this leads me to my next point. One of my biggest fears is that I will not (yes, this is silly) be asked to prom. and that once I get to college, I'm not going to know how to date because I have never been on many real dates before. Boys, please note. THIS IS EXTREMELY FRUSTRATING TO GIRLS, THERE IS NO COMMITMENT. IT'S HIGH SCHOOL. JUST GO ON DATES. not that hard. kthanks.
Everything culminates to something where it is extremely hard not to loose your head. you want to smack boys that you helped start. It's beyond me how oblivious some people can be. So don't let your ego get any bigger. Because I think you have forgotten. I won't. But remember... even if you hate me now. I don't hate you. In fact, I'll never leave, so when you're ready, come back. Turn around, I'll be right there beside you.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Empty Shelves
Bookcase, Give your knowledge to those around you,
Everyone wants it and everyone needs it.
Serious and funny, dramatic and light.
Tell them what they want to hear.
How everything will work out just right.
Be the thing they need and search for.
Inspire them, fill them with dreams.
Take them to places they never thought of.
Be the missing pieces they need.
They grow from what they find from you,
Grow from what they read.
Bookcase,
I feel like i have become the bookcase needed from everyone.
So teach me your ways.
Now that, that is who i am.
I love to share my knowlege
I love to give a laugh
To share my books on my shelves.
But i cant give every page of me
Cause what more will i have left?
Books keep coming off the shelf,
Tearing pages here and there.
But a book lacks to come back.
How can i spread my knowledge if
No one returns what i have given out?
Bookcase,
I do not mind to be one,
Although my case is getting empty,
I dont mind cause i can help someone.
I wish though that the books rented out
Would get returned once in awhile.
I want to spread what i can give but,
If i have no books left,
No pages to share,
No new stories,
Or things to bare.
Then i have to stock up my shelves again,
Alone.
From scatch.
For those readers who just keep on checking out.
I want to be that book case for everyone else
To be the bookcase i had once been.
But it is hard when nothing comes back.
Readers,
So please, Ask yourself,
What have you checked out?
And most importantly,
From what you have read,
From what you have grown
Have you given a story back?
Has a book been returned?
Everyone wants it and everyone needs it.
Serious and funny, dramatic and light.
Tell them what they want to hear.
How everything will work out just right.
Be the thing they need and search for.
Inspire them, fill them with dreams.
Take them to places they never thought of.
Be the missing pieces they need.
They grow from what they find from you,
Grow from what they read.
Bookcase,
I feel like i have become the bookcase needed from everyone.
So teach me your ways.
Now that, that is who i am.
I love to share my knowlege
I love to give a laugh
To share my books on my shelves.
But i cant give every page of me
Cause what more will i have left?
Books keep coming off the shelf,
Tearing pages here and there.
But a book lacks to come back.
How can i spread my knowledge if
No one returns what i have given out?
Bookcase,
I do not mind to be one,
Although my case is getting empty,
I dont mind cause i can help someone.
I wish though that the books rented out
Would get returned once in awhile.
I want to spread what i can give but,
If i have no books left,
No pages to share,
No new stories,
Or things to bare.
Then i have to stock up my shelves again,
Alone.
From scatch.
For those readers who just keep on checking out.
I want to be that book case for everyone else
To be the bookcase i had once been.
But it is hard when nothing comes back.
Readers,
So please, Ask yourself,
What have you checked out?
And most importantly,
From what you have read,
From what you have grown
Have you given a story back?
Has a book been returned?
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Truth
I use the piano to express who I am, make both others and myself feel happier inside, and escape to the world only I can get into.
If you had looked at the little girl you would have never been able to guess what she was doing. You could see some type of emotion in her eyes. Something that said, “I’m trying to wait patiently, but I don’t want to.” You could tell the ‘knobby kneed’ 7 year old was waiting.
She sat staring out the window, looking, and there it was, the mover truck that contained the item that would change her life forever. The van clinked down the street like a homeless man and his shopping cart.
The movers began to unload this foreign object. You could see a sudden twinge of excitement flash across the girl’s face. The expression looked excited as the old lady who had just won the lottery. Her friend Caleb was curious also and came to see what was going on. They sat together in silence, with the occasional giggle of high spirits. The girl and the boy sat together watching the movers lift and groan like disgruntled confused tigers.
Sarah had never seen anything like it before. The black box, or so it seemed to the girl had a curious feature, the pure white keys were just asking to be touched. They looked as smooth as the ice cream right when you open a new box. She stared in to the slick, sparkling black surface and saw herself looking back. Sarah saw the sparkle in her eye. She longingly reached out to touch the soft, cool, milky white keys. As the girl did she found if she pushed hard enough that it made a “clunk” sound. She wanted to try again but only was told, “Stop, later you can”.
Sarah replied, “Why not now mommy? What is it? I want to learn!”
There was no reply only a soft giggle and the sound of Caleb calling her out of her trance to come and play out side with him.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was the moment. Sarah was nervous. There was a knot in her stomach that seemed to get tighter with each step. Why would she though? She had been working on this piece for ages. She loved playing it but she never thought she could do it memorized in front of all these people. Sarah knew this piece; it was all too familiar. Her sister had played it and now she was. The piece was Crisifori’s Dream.
She stood in front of the crowd and had just finished enlightening them about the significance of her piece. The worst part was she was going last. She was nervous as she should be, but then a calm fell over her as she slid into the familiar place in front of the piano. Only this time it was for real, not just a practice session at home. She felt the keys over with her fingers, sitting there for only seconds, but it felt like minutes. Feeling like the whole world was watching her she took a deep breath and began to play.
The notes sounded routine to her, but to the audience, she knew they were something else. The keys were tighter than normal but Sarah just kept pushing, knowing that even though they were not as loose, the music would have the effect of its magic. She seemed to be in a trance. Just playing, the notes rolling across her eyelids.
As Sarah reached the climax of her song, she forgot the notes she knew the tune but the page in her mind was blank. She just kept on playing. Sarah could not recall the notes, then wondrously the piano just kept going. You could hardly even tell that she had not known all the notes. She ended her song took a deep breath and stood.
The audience was there for her they clapped and clapped. It was at this moment that Sarah realized she had forgotten everything when she was playing. It was all that mattered. It didn’t matter that she had a bad day. All she wanted to do was play the piano and share and develop her talent further.
She longed for the smooth chocolate fountain of notes pouring out of her piano, the notes that made her whole.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sarah looked at the piano. It had been a long day. And the weather ironically matched her mood. It was dreary out side. She was home alone and decided to just play. She slid onto the bench and picked up the music, and she could feel the slight indents of notes on her fingers as if she were blind and the music guided her like brail.
She began to play, and the notes familiarized themselves. She knew this song Waterfall. The fast paced movements came, and suddenly she was sitting on a stage in front of the piano. The light was dim. There were a million faces out there but none of them she knew. She was just here to share her magic.
She hit each note faster and crisper each time. This is what she craved, the acceptance of her own world. Her fingers danced across the keys. Knowing each one by name. Then the song ended. The lights and stage faded. Reality came back into play.
She felt different than before. No longer the innocent seven year old she was before. But better than she ever had been.
She looked up and saw the piano staring back at her. She looked into the black sheen that mirrored her reflection perfectly. It never got old. That silent friend staring back at her, waiting to be put into the notes and escape; they are more alike than different. Pleasing others while helping our self. We work together. This youthful innocence put into the piano that first day. Seven years ago.
Sarah muttered to herself. “Never, will I ever stop playing this piano to express myself. Not even once. You are my world and only I know how to get into it.”She heard a click of a door. She quickly composed herself, started playing, and drifted out of reality.
If you had looked at the little girl you would have never been able to guess what she was doing. You could see some type of emotion in her eyes. Something that said, “I’m trying to wait patiently, but I don’t want to.” You could tell the ‘knobby kneed’ 7 year old was waiting.
She sat staring out the window, looking, and there it was, the mover truck that contained the item that would change her life forever. The van clinked down the street like a homeless man and his shopping cart.
The movers began to unload this foreign object. You could see a sudden twinge of excitement flash across the girl’s face. The expression looked excited as the old lady who had just won the lottery. Her friend Caleb was curious also and came to see what was going on. They sat together in silence, with the occasional giggle of high spirits. The girl and the boy sat together watching the movers lift and groan like disgruntled confused tigers.
Sarah had never seen anything like it before. The black box, or so it seemed to the girl had a curious feature, the pure white keys were just asking to be touched. They looked as smooth as the ice cream right when you open a new box. She stared in to the slick, sparkling black surface and saw herself looking back. Sarah saw the sparkle in her eye. She longingly reached out to touch the soft, cool, milky white keys. As the girl did she found if she pushed hard enough that it made a “clunk” sound. She wanted to try again but only was told, “Stop, later you can”.
Sarah replied, “Why not now mommy? What is it? I want to learn!”
There was no reply only a soft giggle and the sound of Caleb calling her out of her trance to come and play out side with him.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was the moment. Sarah was nervous. There was a knot in her stomach that seemed to get tighter with each step. Why would she though? She had been working on this piece for ages. She loved playing it but she never thought she could do it memorized in front of all these people. Sarah knew this piece; it was all too familiar. Her sister had played it and now she was. The piece was Crisifori’s Dream.
She stood in front of the crowd and had just finished enlightening them about the significance of her piece. The worst part was she was going last. She was nervous as she should be, but then a calm fell over her as she slid into the familiar place in front of the piano. Only this time it was for real, not just a practice session at home. She felt the keys over with her fingers, sitting there for only seconds, but it felt like minutes. Feeling like the whole world was watching her she took a deep breath and began to play.
The notes sounded routine to her, but to the audience, she knew they were something else. The keys were tighter than normal but Sarah just kept pushing, knowing that even though they were not as loose, the music would have the effect of its magic. She seemed to be in a trance. Just playing, the notes rolling across her eyelids.
As Sarah reached the climax of her song, she forgot the notes she knew the tune but the page in her mind was blank. She just kept on playing. Sarah could not recall the notes, then wondrously the piano just kept going. You could hardly even tell that she had not known all the notes. She ended her song took a deep breath and stood.
The audience was there for her they clapped and clapped. It was at this moment that Sarah realized she had forgotten everything when she was playing. It was all that mattered. It didn’t matter that she had a bad day. All she wanted to do was play the piano and share and develop her talent further.
She longed for the smooth chocolate fountain of notes pouring out of her piano, the notes that made her whole.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sarah looked at the piano. It had been a long day. And the weather ironically matched her mood. It was dreary out side. She was home alone and decided to just play. She slid onto the bench and picked up the music, and she could feel the slight indents of notes on her fingers as if she were blind and the music guided her like brail.
She began to play, and the notes familiarized themselves. She knew this song Waterfall. The fast paced movements came, and suddenly she was sitting on a stage in front of the piano. The light was dim. There were a million faces out there but none of them she knew. She was just here to share her magic.
She hit each note faster and crisper each time. This is what she craved, the acceptance of her own world. Her fingers danced across the keys. Knowing each one by name. Then the song ended. The lights and stage faded. Reality came back into play.
She felt different than before. No longer the innocent seven year old she was before. But better than she ever had been.
She looked up and saw the piano staring back at her. She looked into the black sheen that mirrored her reflection perfectly. It never got old. That silent friend staring back at her, waiting to be put into the notes and escape; they are more alike than different. Pleasing others while helping our self. We work together. This youthful innocence put into the piano that first day. Seven years ago.
Sarah muttered to herself. “Never, will I ever stop playing this piano to express myself. Not even once. You are my world and only I know how to get into it.”She heard a click of a door. She quickly composed herself, started playing, and drifted out of reality.
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