Author: Victoria Jerde

So. First things first, I am absolutely horrible at memorization. I’m not sure exactly why, but I know I can’t do it.

Recently, I had to memorize two lengthy poems for Poetry Out Loud, which was mandatory for my Poetry class. I kind of put it off for a while until maybe the week before Thanksgiving break. Not because I didn’t want to do it or anything, but because I really just didn’t have time. It was on the very bottom of my priority list and let me tell you, that was a long list.

When the time came where I did sit down and start reading over my poems and attempting to memorize them, I found it very hard.

Alright, look, I’ve got super bad ADD, so it’s pretty challenging for me to SIT down and READ one poem over and over again until it gets nailed in my brain. So, yes, I did slack off a bit. I didn’t spend the entirety of those three weeks memorizing the poems, but I tried. I really did.

I had my first poem mostly down at the end of the second week, but the second poem I found, was way too long for me to be able to memorize in time. So, I did what anyone in my predicament would do: I changed my second poem. I decided to choose a way shorter one because let’s face it, there was no chance of me learning any long ones.

But.

I forgot about my online class that was due in a week. Yikes.

So, I did again, what anyone would have done in my situation. I bumped Poetry Out Loud down to second on my priority list and focused in on my online class. I mean, if I didn’t finish my online class I would fail the entire class and have to retake it. Not an option AT ALL.

Yeah, I read over the second poem a bit, but not nearly as much as I needed to to be able to memorize it.

The day came where I had to get up in front of three judges and recite two poems that I only half-heartedly know. Oh, wait, just kidding. I learned suddenly that it was going to be in front of not only three judges, but a whole class, not including my class.

Great.

I decided to turn around and make my way towards the bathroom to keep myself from having a mini panic attack before I went up and recited my poems.

Well, I got up there and pretty much gave up. Yep, I looked pretty stupid compared to my other peers who did an amazing job.

I wasn’t really worried about that part. I was more worried about the fact that I made a really bad grade because of it, and if there is one thing I stress over the most, it’s my grades.

So yeah, I may or may not have had a mental breakdown after that, but I’m fine now. I don’t have that stress on my shoulders anymore, and I’m almost done with my little priority list.

Pretty much the point of this blog is to tell you that if you know you’re bad at memorization and you have to memorize something, do your research to find trick and tips to help you.

Here are a few links I found when I did my research.

https://www.collegexpress.com/articles-and-advice/majors-and-academics/articles/study-smarter/memorization-tips-and-tricks/

https://www.dal.ca/news/2013/11/20/study-tips–top-5-memorization-techniques.html

https://www.forbes.com/sites/forbescoachescouncil/2017/07/07/eight-simple-memorization-tricks-to-help-you-remember-anything/#124fc56b7f25

Good luck.

All I saw leave your deep, red lips was smoke,

and the ash of an ending cigarette atop fallen leaves.

The distant whispers of fluttering butterflies,

and your sharp eyes the color of the near mountains.

We spent our days laying in tall grass,

with memories of our separate summers.

How we longed for another day of summer.

Filled with swimming pools and blazing fire smoke.

No blankets needed to lay in the grass.

The only thing coating the trees were bright leaves.

The ant hills looked more like mountains.

We could chase the butterflies.

Never would we catch those swift butterflies.

Always resting in the dead of summer.

Alongside blue peaks of forgotten mountains.

Hiding from our mothers just to have one smoke.

Throwing leftover butts underneath dead leaves,

that danced in the skinny, emerald grass.

Sleeping was no chore to us and the grass,

as long as we didn’t wake our beloved butterflies.

Make sure you’re careful to not  step on the leaves.

This was how we spent our short summer.

Smothering our lungs with cancerous smoke,

staring into the tips of the marvelous mountains.

Creating shapes of the glowing mountains.

Listening to nothing but indie and bluegrass.

Making Os and fogg with our smoke

Telling secrets to the nosy butterflies.

Hoping our love would exceed the nights of summer.

That it was heavier than what this memory leaves.

Breaking from the branches the leaves.

Screaming at the scrapping mountains.

Crying for the sake of our ending summer.

Burying our muddy toes in the soft grass.

Having relations with the busy butterflies.

Sharing one another’s cigarette smoke.

Even still, I can smell your deadly smoke.

I can picture the longing butterflies.

I can still see you lying in that summer grass.

She says she needs time to figure things out.

That there are parts of her that are broken,

And a clocks work will piece them back together.

She says she needs time to find the missing pieces.

As if two won’t be a bigger search team.

Like the odds won’t be greater.

She says she needs time to heal her open wounds.

Because being alone in doing so will work wonders.

And barbie doll band aids will close the gaps between the two.

She says she needs time to find herself.

As if you don’t already know every part of her.

Even the parts she tries to hide.

She says she needs time to be alone.

Like the space she’s held over your head for the past month,

Was all a figment of your overthinking mind.

She says she needs time to find a good reason to leave you.

Because being straightforward and honest isn’t what you want.

And playing merry-go-round games is your favorite pastime.

You came without asking,

Took without warning.

Left with no goodbye.

Repeated like you never went.

You were the stench in the air.

The elephant in this room.

Uncomfortable is how I’d describe.

How anyone who knew you would.

When I’d ask you to leave,

You’d give that forbidden smirk,

Then move even closer to me.

Invading any space I thought I had.

Never was I allowed to breathe,

without asking you first.

Never was I allowed to leave,

without informing you first.

I got tired of this circus you made of me.

I got tired of the Jack-in-the-box you put me in.

Hell, I even got tired of the person inside me.

Snapping was inevitable.

The kitchen knife was cold.

And so was your lifeless body.

You now lay on my front door step.

With the door closed in front of you.

My bed is now reclaimed,

The monsters stay beneath.

Vanished.

I can’t see you.

And this is why i knock,

before entering any room.

Fearless-2008: I remember vividly being about six years old in my mom’s beat-up Neon listening to overplayed music on the radio. I never really payed attention due to the fact that I was a first grader with two barbies in my hands. However, whenever the now iconic tune “You Belong With Me” came on, I stopped whatever I was doing and sang along. After my mother observed my absolute love for Taylor, she got me the Fearless album for my birthday. I was so stoked. I remember listening to it on repeat on my little MP3 Player I also got for my birthday. In a matter of two weeks I knew every word to all 13 songs on the album. I would ride my bike up and down my street singing along. I didn’t see it then, but it was sort of my escape.

Speak Now-2010: This album has some of my favorite Taylor Swift songs on it. I remember being in third grade and some of the kids were mean to me. They’d call me names and make fun of everything I ever did. So you know what I did? I sang “Mean” at the talent show. (Yep, I was that girl.) They still were mean to me, but it was an empowering moment for me. Other than that, I’d stay up on Saturday nights playing with my toys listening to “Enchanted” and “Last Kiss” until my mom would come in and tell me it was time to go to bed.

Red– 2012: Fifth grade was an experience. It was the year I met my (still to this day) best friend, the year I discovered my love for writing, and the year I became obsessed with the song “22.” In a way I began writing because of Taylor Swift. I remember I was at my best friends house watching YouTube (this was also the year we discovered YouTube, and we were very fascinated). We decided to look at Taylor Swift interviews, us both being avid Taylor Swift lovers. In one of her interviews she talked about writing her own music, and how she had kept journals ever since she was younger. And that is where my love for writing began. I got a journal and began with just writing about what happened that day. Then, it turned into writing stories, just using my imagination. I even started writing songs(I’m not saying they were good.) I guess what I’m saying is this album helped shape me into the person I am today.

1989- 2014: May 22, 2015 was by far one of the best days I’ve ever had. It was the day I saw Taylor Swift in concert, and let me tell you, I had such a great time. My 19 year old uncle had to take me because everyone else was busy(and yes, I did see and hear you jamming along beside me when you thought I wasn’t looking.) I got the tickets for my 13th birthday, and let me tell you, I was stoked. That entire day my uncle and I listened to the 1989 album probably 200 times. I’m pretty sure I cried as anyone would seeing their idol in concert. Fun fact: Due to my grandmother working the concert, I met Taylor Swift’s dad, which was an experience in itself. He gave me a glow up bracelet, which I still have and will never get rid of. This was definitely the best birthday present I’ve ever received.

Reputation– 2017: This album is by far my favorite album from Taylor, and it is iconic. The amount of times I’ve heard the infamous line “I’m sorry, the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now…Why?…Oh!…Cause she’s dead.” I remember the day she released the single “Look What You Made Me Do,” I was completely shook(for lack of a better word.) I wasn’t used to this Taylor. Then her other singles “Call It What You Want”(personal favorite), “Gorgeous” and “Read For It…” came out and I just could not contain the amount of excitement I had for this album. And that’s when the day came where it was released. I remember pre-ordering it about two weeks before. When it finally came out, I listened to that album (and still occasionally do) about 2397423 times just in the first month. It was iconic and so weirdly relatable. At the time, I was working on my character and who I was. I was changing and evolving, and this album is about exactly that.

Needless to say, Taylor Swift’s music really helped me to grow in a way. I know people give me hate for even liking her music, but that doesn’t matter to me. I like what I like.

I feel at some point we all have trust issues. I think of it as some type of rope and knife. Where every time someone does something to lose your trust, the rope becomes thinner and thinner.

Lately I’ve been struggling with trusting people due to my past experiences. I’d say I’ve been through many tragic events with family and even friends, and I’ve put up with stuff I shouldn’t put up with. But, I’ve grown from this and now have enough self love for myself to do what is best for me.

I think I need to learn to trust myself. I back out of many things solely because of my anxiety. Some days it was like I was my anxiety. Like it just overtook me entirely. This has caused me to miss out on so many things. And even though my anxiety has drastically gone down since being at MSA, it still seems to creep up on me sometimes.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, sometimes we don’t trust people because we don’t trust ourselves. And that’s up to you to change.

Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I love to read.  When I was younger, around 10 or 11 there was a time that I ditched going outside to play with my friends after school to stay in and finish the book I was reading that week. It got to a point where my mom was a little worried about me, but my reading level was at a 9th grade level by the time I entered 5th grade. I loved the idea of escaping my life and entering another. I used to get so attached to the characters, and it would almost feel like I was in the book.

My life has gotten a little busy, and I haven’t picked up many books in a while. Here are my top favorites out of the many books I’ve read in the last 16 years and a little insight on each one. Enjoy.

Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell: Someone who played a very important role in my life recommended this book to me, and I’m really glad I decided to read it. I could relate to it at the time which I really loved. I enjoy books that I can relate to. It’s pretty much about two teenagers who are in love and they face some obsolesces. I love it because it’s so innocent and sweet. It’s definitely one you will cry with, so get the tissues ready.

All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven: WOW, this is actually a great book. It’s very symbolic and it deals with issues that not many people like to talk about(you’ll have to read it yourself to get what I’m saying.) It made me cry a whole gallon of tears. It is definitely the book that has made me cry the most. I just really like Jennifer Niven’s writing style, and how you kinda have to figure some things out. It keeps it interesting.

The Sun and Her Flowers by Rupi Kaur: Okay seriously, this book changed my life. I read it at a time where I was going through a lot. It really helped me to realize that in the end I’m going to be okay. It in a way helped me find self love for myself. I recommend this to anyone who just needs to be uplifted honestly. It’s a very empowering book.

I have so many other favorite books, but these are just the ones that mean the most to me. I think I want to start a series where I go into greater detail about my favorite books, and how they have impacted my life. I just want to take a second and say thank you to the women that created these works of art. Thank you.

I used to know a little girl. She spent the entirety of her days swinging back and forth on the worn down swing set her mother worked so hard to get for her birthday one year. She collected caterpillars wondering why they always ended up dead by morning. She was oblivious to the world around her, and yet she was happy.

She had bigger dreams than her little hands could hold. She wanted to be a singer “like Taylor Swift.” She even wanted to be an astronaut at one point. Her mother described her as free, a little wild even. And that she was.

This girl knows the best parts of me. She praises them when no one else notices them. This girl knows the worst parts of me as well, yet she smiles at them even. She excepts them both, and comforts me when no one else will. She sends little messages to me that help me to keep my head up.

I’ve grown up from this girl, but I miss being young like her. How everyday was a new adventure. I miss the simplicity of it all. She was the voice in my head that told me I was beautiful when the rest of the desperate voices begged to differ. She got me through the walls I never thought I could break through. She helped me to grow into the person I am today.

I had forgotten about this girl for a while, but she never forgot about me. When I believed I was alone, crying on my own, she was the only one that saw. She was there. I now realize that she has always been there for me, telling me that I’m okay. I’ll always be okay.

I guess this is a little appreciation blog for the girl that shaped me into me. Her drive and imagination has taken me to places I never knew I could go. She not only took me places, but she taught me how to love the one person that’s the hardest to love: myself.

My knight in shining armor left me.

I was no princess to him.

Just a washed up version,

of a girl locked in the tower of her spiraling mind.

I’ve turned this hotel bathroom into my new oasis.

The place where I presume to gather my thoughts,

but I’m doing nothing of that sort.

I’m just making it worse.

I looked up to see the reflection,

of a girl I once had overflowing love for.

I now see her dark makeup running down her blush cheeks,

and smeared lipstick creeping down her chin.

I started crying even harder because I knew I looked hideous.

I knew he left in his maroon colored getaway car.

Simply because I could never be good enough.

and I never would be.

I’ll never have silky blonde hair and ocean blue eyes,

like the girl he chose.

I’d trade my dull hair and basic eyes,

Anyday for a fraction of what she has.

“Look at you.

Your hair isn’t straight.

Your face is too round.

Too chubby.

You’ll never succeed at that prestigious school,

With thousands of academic driven people.

You’ll only be lonely,

because everyone who meets you, ends up leaving you.

I take my bright, red lipstick from my golden clutch.

It’s in a white, cylinder shaped tube,

marked with the name “To Be Beautiful.”

and god, did I believe it would.

I start to smear it on my large lips,

because with it,

i’m not as awful as I was without it.

I felt a little more approachable.

I felt less horrid.

After I rubbed it into my chapped lips,

I looked into the mirror once more.

I began to cry even harder,

smearing it all over my porcelain face.

Next thing I know,

My fist is smashing the dirty mirror,

Over and over again.

I let out a loud scream,

I’m not sure if it was out of physical or mental pain,

or both.

I slid down the wall with my knees in front of me,

my blush pink dress that my mother spent a fortune on,

was now covered in red lipstick,

and hurtful tears.

I sit there for a moment wondering what I’m doing.

Why I’m here.

What I should be doing.

What my true purpose is.

I get no answer in return.

Almost instantly, a majestic figure appears,

on the green sofa in the corner of the bathroom.

She was angelic and mystical.

Frightened, I move away from her.

She stopped me and told me to calm down.

She told me I was safe.

“Look at you, my beautiful one,

Your hair’s a mess, and your dress is rugged.

And what have you done with that red paint of yours?

Oh, and your hand, your delicate hand.

I looked down at my hand.

There was no scars.

No blood.

It looked perfectly normal.

“Who are you?” I ask in shock.

“I am Aphrodite, goddess of love.

I’m here to show you what you aren’t seeing.

Give you a new set of eyes for a minute.

Come with me and you will see.”

I hesitated, but carried on with her.

I walked into the pink portal that she came from.

Almost instantly, we were out of this world.

It’s green all around,

with white skies and dandelions.

There’s one tree in the distance.

I see a girl sitting on a swing made from rope and wood.

She is beautiful and devine.

She has long, dark locks of smooth hair.

And the whitest skin you’d ever see.

She had moviestar looks with sharp cheekbones.

I ran towards her, and realized that the girl was me.

She was wearing my prom dress,

And the diamond ring Daddy gave me.

She was gorgeous.

I was gorgeous.

“I’ve given you eyes of another.

I’ve let you see yourself away from your prospective,

to show you just how stunning you truly are,

Behind your eyes that have become scars.

Millie, you may not see it with your own,

but you are one of a kind.

No one can ever take that away from you, unless you let them,

But if you don’t, you will see this, too.

You will succeed in this short life of yours.

Even in the next and the next.

You will become even more great than you already are,

and everyone will recognize this.

You possess the power to become more successful that you could ever imagined.

And you are lovely, child.

Don’t let your mind tell you otherwise,

The truth is, you are your own worst enemy.

The cause of all your lies and cries.”

“I am gorgeous, and I’ll never forget it.

I’ll treat myself the way she deserves,

Never letting myself see otherwise.

My name is Millie and I am beautiful.”

Next thing I know I’m in my room.

With string lights on the walls,

And Polaroids of me taken from a distance.

My dress is clean,

My hand is healed.

I feel at peace.

I get up and walk towards the tall mirror by my closet.

There’s a note in the corner.

“Millie, never forget, darling. Never forget.”

I put the note away.

I then flip the mirror over to where it’s facing the wall.

I cover my vanity and bathroom mirror,

with towels from our linen closet.

I wasn’t going to let myself forget.

I go across the room to get my blue Polaroid.

I put the film in and turn it towards me.

I snap a picture of myself.

This time my face is closer to the camera.

I hang it with the rest of the pictures,

Then lie my head down to rest.

Months go by like hours.

I’m now moving into my dorm,

about to embark on a journey that will shape my life.

An amazing adventure that will help me find myself.

I open up a box labeled “junk.”

Sitting on top of a silk, black scarf is the tube of red lipstick.

I look at it, observing the grooves in it.

The name I believed rang true.

I let out a sigh.

And toss it into the trash along with a pile of mirrors I once had.

relatable.

Wow, it’s been feeling like a bad Monday for the past week, honestly. My mood has been swinging left and right, which ultimately causes me to have a headache that has yet to go away. I’m sleep deprived, HORRIBLY. I get about five hours of sleep at most, a night. This may not be critical to some people, but for me, I’m used to sleeping a total of seven or eight hours a night. It may be because we get out of school at five now instead of 3:30 pm. This causes fewer hours in the day, and more homework (my favorite combination). It’s not that I choose to stay up or anything, it’s really either homework, or my mind just won’t go to bed. I’ll lay there for hours just thinking about sweet nothings. I stress about the things I’ve yet to accomplish, the things that I was supposed to accomplish but have slipped my mind and upcoming dates that I can’t forget about. I’m out of sleeping pills, too (*reminder* get sleeping pills).

I really need to get my life together. I had it together until I didn’t. Everything was put in its place until last Tuesday when I stubbed my toe on the corner of my bed. From there, everything just went downhill. However, I’m the type to always rise up when I fall (or in my case, stub a toe). I just need to meditate or something.

I decided to put together a Pinterest wall to help me get my life together. Feel free to visit it if you can relate to whatever mess this is. It’s called “self-help,” and it’s got some really good tips in it.

I think I may just have a spa day. FYI: a spa day is a great way to just chill out and relieve stress. Just putting that out there. I could organize all of my stuff. I have a planner, but I’ve been neglecting her lately (my bad). Coffee could help you focus. I know it helps me focus.

I just need to take a chill pill (not literally). I don’t know. I just need to get used to it and find a schedule that works for me. That’s what my mom said. I just need to lock myself in my room for the next few days and get stuff done. Maybe relax a little, play some good music, and get the stack of Algebra 2 packets I have yet to complete done (the people in my class will know what I mean). I just need to get my life together.

I’ll start tomorrow.