Category: Junior Literary

It’s as simple as that. When you breathe, my skin crawls from my body in an attempt to drag down the street. I hear your screech of a voice, and my toenails curl upward. With every step you take, my eyelids burn. I am me, and you are me, and I hate you.

There are so many reasons to be grateful for the lives we all have. There are also so many beautiful things that happen when you embrace your mistakes, rather than run from them. Sadly, I tend to forget this. My pretentious-self somehow decided in the last few years of my life that snobbish, self-centered trash was bound to be my density. And thus, it was so ( and is so).

I would like to believe I am funny (though I know, I’m not). I would like to believe the seven double chins I have displaced below my neck are cute. I mean, squishy is adorable, right? ( Maybe on a Siamese or Rottweiler, but not on me, I promise).

Redeemable qualities? Miss me with that.

I have lied to my closest of friends so often that I normally can’t see the already thin line that I drew for my lies. I don’t know what’s real, and not in the cool psychological way. I just honestly cannot ever tell what’s going on.

Sometimes, the existential rage rooted in my bones is shown in forms of me being rude, or maybe not taking the time to actually be a  real human, with humanity, you know? It sucks, but it happens.

And all of this is why I just cannot wrap my head around the idea of ever hating anyone, besides myself. I just, I understand why people are bad sometimes. It is a thing  that I too get lost in, and I need to work on it.

Existing has become a real hassle, but hey, I’m still kicking, right?

Right?

God, I don’t want to exist sometimes.(Geez, what an edge lord, huh.)

I keep waiting for that day. The day my life changes. The day I wake up and breathe in atmosphere instead of overworked oxygen. The day my feet float instead of trample. I am waiting for my bad poetry to mean something, waiting for my eloquence to be elegant and humble. I am so ready for college, and not just because I want to grow up. I don’t, technically.

I just want movement, it’s the only thing that’s keeping me, for the most part, sane.

Life is really weird. I don’t really know many things and I know that I have a lot to learn and experiences to experience, but even so I do know some things. Those things aren’t that major compared to what people much older than me know but at this time in my life they seem like the world. Like I know the definition of love. I know what it’s supposed to mean and how people fall into it. Then again I always hear different things. My mom said that it’s if you’re willing to take a bullet from them. But I would take a bullet for a lot of people. Someone else said that it’s when you want them to be happy no matter what. But what if that “What” is them becoming a dictator and taking over and enslaving a country. Then maybe you wouldn’t want them to be happy doing that. Then again that is an extreme scenario. So to put it another smaller perspective it’s if they want to be with someone else. That’s when the cause of their happiness is someone else. You may make them happy but not like that other person. Then again you still would want them to be happy but another part may want them to be unhappy so you could have them. Then would that be love? I don’t know the answer but I don’t think I am meant to at the moment so I’ll move on from that. Another thing that I know is the meaning of friendship. Again my mom has always told me that I should choose my friends carefully. Now if carefully is befriending everyone then I suppose I have the right idea. I know it isn’t, however, I never claimed myself to be smart when it comes to things like this. Just that I know about them. Sadly though friendships are weird and are similar to relationships just with less kissing and stuff most of the time. They take time and effort and a trust between people that is stronger than one with a stranger. They would have your back ideally and not be broken up by any petty means. Then comes the cases of trust because a lot of people are not trustworthy or necessarily worth most of it. Now I’m not saying that everyone is or that humans are in general, to be honest every last person could lie about everything. But it’s the case of if you are good enough for that person to choose to give them the truth. You’re not legally obligated to do so but it would be nice, I guess.  Especially if you call yourself a friend to someone. But, like I said I don’t know everything and I could be wrong. Please feel free to give your perspective on things or these two in particular. It would be greatly appreciated.

the future has always scared me.

I always thought I’d never live to see 16, and my friends and family wouldn’t really care that I was gone.

that I would just be the kid that faded away at age 13 that no one really cared all that much about because I was “weird.”

I thought if I did have a future, it would consist of a crappy job that I hate, forever stuck in the small town I grew up in and always despised, being criticized by the members of my family that I never saw about the tattoo I got last week or how my hair is now.

I thought my future would be terrible.

that it would be the type of future everyone deliberately tries to avoid for themselves.

I knew my writing would go nowhere, regardless of how much I love it or how hard I tried to make it become something.

it would always be doomed, and I would never be able to stray from the path I was placed on at birth.

but now, I know differently.

and it’s still utterly terrifying.

the unknown scares me, and my future is exactly that – unknown.

I’ve always been relatively good at math and thinking logically and solving problems and searching among chaos for something specific, but this is one that I cannot solve.

I can’t combine the numbers right or find the piece or the specific thing that I need.

the future is something I cannot see.

I could end up flipping burgers at mcdonald’s when I’m 30 or a writer before I hit 25, my dream career.

living in a decent apartment or moving back in with my parents by the time I finish college – assuming I even get into one and complete it, that is.

which brings the question: college dropout or graduate?

working in the field of creative writing or putting together terrible poems in the room I sleep in now at my parents’ houses and waking up at 3 p.m. to go to work with rude people and an ice cream machine that’s always broken?

all alone or able to surround myself with a few close friends and those I care for when I need them and even when I don’t?

am I doomed to wander back to that path, or will I remain off of it for the remainder of my life?

how many people will come and go?

will any remain five years from now?

will I?

wrapped ιn тнe darĸneѕѕ

ѕнe ѕlowly drιғтѕ ιnтo deep ѕlυмвer

yoυ lay тнere

wonderιng wнaт yoυr lιғe ιѕ тoo вecoмe

yoυ wonder wнaт wιll нappen тo yoυ

yoυ υnderѕтand yoυ coυld never вe wιтн нer

yoυ вelιeve yoυrѕelғ тo вe a мonѕтer

and нer.?

ѕнe ιѕ no leѕѕ нυмan тнan yoυrѕelғ

вυт yoυ realιze yoυr ғaυlтѕ & yoυ ĸnow yoυ coυld вrιng нer нarм

вυт ѕнe ιѕ yoυr coυnтer parт

yoυ are тorn вeтween тнeѕe тнoυgнтѕ yoυ pυll нer cloѕe

тнen ѕнe relaхeѕ and yoυ ғeel a вιт вeттer

yoυ тнιnĸ ғor qυιтe a wнιle

yoυ coυld love нer or leave нer

тнιnĸιng and decιdιng

all тнe wнιle drιғтιng oғғ тo ѕleep

тнen yoυr нearт ѕтopѕ

–

only one wнo нaѕ ѕeen тrυe υglιneѕѕ

can ѕee pυre вeaυтy

ғor тнe eye decιeveѕ тнoѕe wнo do noт ĸnow

“вeaυтy ιѕ ιn тнe eye oғ тнe вeнolder” aѕ one woυld ѕay

вυт yoυ мυѕт ѕee тнe wιcĸedιeѕт oғ creaтυreѕ тo вelιeve ιn тнe мoѕт ѕтυnnιng тreaѕυreѕ oғ тнιѕ earтн

waтcн cloѕely,ғor yoυ ѕнall ѕee wιтн yoυr мιndѕ eye

oтнeтwιѕe yoυ wιll go тнroυgн lιғe вlιnded вy ғaĸe вeaυтιeѕ & тнe worѕт oғ тнιngѕ

~ĸιngѕley

–

All I want to do is

Break the bottle

Grab the glass

Cut my vein

& Fall in the grass

I’m dying

I’m dying

Sing about me when I’m dead

The pounding is much too real

Much too hard in my head

I’m tired I’m tired

I’m screaming for help

No one listens

So I’m done

I’m done

I’m finally through

Let me fall to my death in peace

& Remember me as you once knew..
_

Laying in this cold winter grass

Smoking,doing anything teens would do.You asked me why I was with you instead of him. The answer was simple really.I love you. He was just a part time thrill. You laid there thinking for quite some time. I inhaled the smoke & let it out slowly. I could never think of a life without you. The day I met you was perfect. So I wondered why you would ask that. It was funny really. But I didn’t want to think anymore. So I just kissed you & let your soft skin touch me. It was sweet bliss. The combination of skin & smoke was complete ecstasy to me. My senses were gone & I was no more. I felt as if we were one. I laid beside you once again & just drifted off. Sweet Paradise was all I ever wanted.

–

Do you know the terror of he who falls asleep

To the very toes he is terrified

Because the ground gives way under him.

And the dreams begin…
_
jυѕт anoтнer corrυpтed ĸιd. ι wonder wнaт ιтѕ lιĸe oυтѕιde тнιѕ waѕтeland we lιve ιn. ι geт ѕo тιred now,ғιgнтιng,jυѕт тryιng тo ѕυrvιve. ι jυѕт wanт тo go вacĸ тo тнe dayѕ wнen everyтнιng waѕ ѕo eaѕy. тιмeѕ wнen ι never ғelт ѕo alone,wнen ι waѕnт ѕo loѕт,ѕo нollow. тнιngѕ’ve cнanged. aѕ ι geт older ι learn тнaт lιғe ιѕnт wнaт ιт once ѕeeмed. ι go тнroυgн every day paιns & agonιeѕ. ιтѕ enoυgн тo wanт тo drop dead on тнe ѕpoт. ι’ve learned тнaт тнere are only тeмporary ғoreverѕ. ι’м ғιlled wιтн eмpтιneѕѕ. even ιғ ι canт ѕee ιт ι ѕтιll вelιeve ιт. ιм нυrтιng & no one’ѕ нelpιng. мy lιғe ιѕ тυмвlιng down a вιg нιll,lιĸe a ѕnow вall, everyтнιng ιѕ ѕo нard, ι coυld end ιт all & never тнιnĸ тwιce.

(in no particular order)

• Take on Me – A-ha
• Here Today – The Beach Boys
• Through the Long Night – Billy Joel
• Colors – Amos Lee
• American Pie – Don McLean
• I’ve Got a Name – Jim Croce
• Come on Eileen – Dexy’s Midnight Runners
• Romeo’s Tune – Steve Forbert
• Sleeping with the Television On – Billy Joel
• A Day in the Life – The Beatles

I absolutely love and require all of these songs, but they hardly represent the extent of the music I love.  There are so many artists and bands that I really wanted to be represented on this list such as Queen, (early) Maroon 5, Elton John, etc., but a list of only ten is far too limiting to include all of them.  You may be wondering why I talk of a lack of representation of certain bands and artists but include two songs from Billy Joel.  Well, the best answer I can give is that I really like Billy Joel, and to tell the truth, there should probably be more of his music on this list.  If I could, I’d include entire albums from Billy Joel such as Glass Houses, The Nylon Curtain, Cold Spring Harbor, River of Dreams, and pretty much every other album by him.  I’d also like to include the entire Pet Sounds album by the Beach Boys which I very unfortunately had to leave off songs from such as Wouldn’t It Be Nice, God Only Knows, Hang Onto Your Ego, etc.  I’d also like to recommend songs from Jim Croce such as Box #10, Operator, One Less Set of Footsteps, and many others.  I could talk for hours about the songs that should be on this list such as those from musicals like Rocky Horror Picture Show, Rent, Les Mis, West Side Story, Sweeney Todd, and others, but I would never finish talking about how many songs I love because of how important music is to me.  There is no single list of songs that would represent the ten songs that I would be fine listening to in addition to no other songs because I need a far wider variety of music, but this list is the closest that I can come.

we used to wait // arcade fire

since coming here, everything i used to do at home has become past tense. the life i’ve known for seven years has become the life i knew, as cliche as that sounds. my old daily routines have become old habits i finally managed to break.

time always feels slower at home. the days seem to drag on forever, the seconds growing longer and longer as i would sit and wait. but i always ended up on the same bus route home, listening to the same music as i stared out the window from the same seat and watched the same storefronts go by.

but here, i can hardly blink before august becomes october. the storefronts seem to rearrange themselves every time i leave the high school to come back to campus.

i spent so much of my time in the suburbs just waiting, and i don’t even know what i was really waiting for. i guess i was just waiting for something new to happen. i was waiting for change. i was hoping the breeze would catch the town just right and shift everything just a little bit off-kilter. i waited as if i thought something else had to come along and change my life for me.

then i applied for msa. and was accepted into the audition stage of msa. and was actually accepted into msa. and actually started changing my life on my own accord.

but everything is changing so much faster than i’d prepared myself for. the days fly by like someone’s actually tearing pages from a calendar, and i feel like i’m wasting what little time i have here. i wasted too many hours sitting on my bed and waiting for the world to change around me instead of going out there and changing it myself, and i’ll be damned if i’m gonna sit here and let the world change faster than i can change it.

at home, all i ever did was wait. i sat and waited and procrastinated and made absolutely nothing of myself, and i’m not gonna let that be who i am here. i’m not gonna just let myself sit here and wait on the breeze to blow me away. i’m so sick of just watching friends become strangers and waiting for strangers to become friends.

it’s my turn to change things, and change will come.

I, honestly, cannot stand Valentine’s Day. And you would probably think that it’s because I’m alone for the so-called “holiday” for the first time in a couple years, but I assure you that that is not the case here.

I’ve always despised the tradition of only showing someone that you love them, or you appreciate them, on only one day of the year. I believe that if you truly feel one of these ways about them, you should show it to them 24/7, not on the one day everyone else decides to take part in annually. You should give them things they like randomly, if you can. I don’t like the entire giving others chocolate, flowers, teddy bears and heart-shaped everythings people exchange on February 14th, and I cannot stand the fact that no one seems to realize just where Valentine’s Day originated.

Ancient Romans celebrated the feast of Lupercalia, an annual festival done to avert evil spirits and purify the city, between Feb. 13 – 15th by the men sacrificing a goat and a dog, then whipping women with the hides of the animals they had just sacrificed. The women would line up for the “romantics” – who were both drunk and naked – to hit them because they believed it would make them fertile, and young men would draw the name of women from a bowl. The two would then be “coupled up” for the remainder of the festival, if you understand what that means, and sometimes longer.

Emperor Claudius II also executed two men – both named Valentine – on Feb. 14 of different years in the 3rd century A.D. Their martyrdom was honored by the Catholic Church with the celebration of St. Valentine’s Day. Later, Pope Gelasius I muddled things in the 5th century by combining St. Valentine’s Day with Lupercalia to expel the pagan rituals.

So, you see, Valentine’s Day is not about flying babies that shoot people with arrows to make them fall in love or chocolate, flowers and teddy bears; it’s about the sacrifice of animals, the abuse of women, the glorification of said abuse and the execution of two men on February 14th. It’s amazing to me that people are perfectly willing to blindly celebrate a “holiday” and continue the traditions of it, without ever bothering to simply look up the facts of its origins on the internet to find a reliable source. I understand you want to show affection to those you care about, but maybe try doing that all the time and not just on the anniversary of Lupercalia and the cruel execution of two different men who happened to have the same name.

“The art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things.”

-Henry Ward Beecher

I want to wake up early enough in the morning to have a cup of coffee and watch the sun rise- insomnia free. I want to hear a song on the radio and manage to sing along- without hearing the silence between the words. I want to run three miles a day, not to be thinner, but to see how strong my body can become.I want to go to college and go to parties. I want to enjoy myself- make friends with strangers on the street and tell that person that I think they’re beautiful- without the voice in my head saying its not worth it. 

I want the world.

I believe that looking for the little things in life is what makes it livable. If we go day to day and only acknowledge the things that don’t seem to go our way, our lives add up to be pretty miserable. In my opinion, we don’t live long enough for there to be time for us to feel sorry for ourselves. Bad things happen and sometimes it gets tough, but the world keeps spinning and life goes on.

Part of me feels like 17 is too young of an age to attempt to make a drastic change in one’s life, but here I am, trying my best to do just that. I don’t want to wake up when I’m 25 and decide to finally fight against the constant pressure of sadness that seems to come as a side-effect of the human condition. It seems like a waste of time that’s already too short.

My goal in life is to be as happy as possible with the things around me, and if those things are not up to par- change them. I don’t expect happiness to come running for me but hopefully to be waiting on a bench while I find the way.

I feel like I’m repeating myself in this post by continuously saying that I don’t believe in wallowing in your sadness, but I don’t think people get told often enough and then they get swallowed up by the heavy feeling of self-pity. It’s addictive and can take more than just yourself to shake away that heaviness, so do that thing where you ask people for a little help.

This post is all over the place and I’ve been writing it over the course of a couple of weeks, trying to get my thoughts together on the topic, but I’m not having much luck getting out what I feel. It’s started to sound more like a self-help website rather than one of my blogs. Whoops.

I am tired of filling my truck with gas. Tired of watching The Andy Griffith show before I sleep. Tired of washing dishes only to eat off of the dishes and then wash the dishes and wash the dishes. I am tired of feeling my hair grow through my scalp. I am tired of the sun rising (but not bright enough) and the leaves falling (ever faster) and the colors changing(why is everything gray?), and I am tired of waking up again and again knowing what the day will be like. I am vomiting my repetition upon the flat line faces I pass in the same hallways, same lunch lines, same reality (that somehow doesn’t exist outside of me.)

The last three days were Thursday and the day after Friday lasted ten seconds; it doesn’t even count as a weekend when the new week begins before the old week can end. I am ending. Finally, my spool of string unwound and pulled taught to the simple center.

Life is like string in that sense, I guess.

There are people in my current reality that hurt me, and me them. I use people. People use me. I let this happen, all the while knowing what kind of cycle I am creating. My family disrupts the cycle to only make another. I am small and large and this paradoxical ignorance is killing me. How do you break the mold you’ve built for yourself when you’re all out of acrylics? How do you leave your body without dying inside and out?

How do you expect me to change? How can I rebuild the bridges I’ve burnt without wounding more people? Where is my God? Why does there need to be “A God” for me to try? I should be able to do this on my own.

And the gist of all of this, the meat and potatoes this nonsense, is that I am, per usual, messing up my life and the lives of others. I don’t want to keep doing this to anyone. I am so sick of hurting people, and I have no idea how I can even begin to make up for it.

My inbox will never be empty. No matter what diet I’m on at the moment, I’ll never pass up a trip to Taco Bell. I want to be a better human. I want humanity to sound like something I’m managing to accomplish.