Thoughts About Having 3 Days Left.
Tomorrow. Tuesday. Wednesday. and it’s over. High school is over. Well, my first thought is, Thank the Lord Jesus Christ I’m done forever. And for my second, third, fourth, etc. thoughts? They go a little something like this: High school is ending. And you’ve been waiting for this day for what seems like an eternity and everyone told you, “it’s going to go by...
Today. (A Sorta-Kinda Poem, By Me)
Today. Today is the day that I’m done. Today is the day that I’m done listening to you tell me I’m a loser, an accident, a mess-up, a mistake, and that you’re not satisfied with who I’ve become. Today is the day that I’m done listening to you tell me you’re ashamed, you regret it, you’re a failure, you’re through with us and...
"What's Wrong With You?"
Those are the words that tend to come out of people’s mouths when they can tell that I’m upset. But to me, they don’t make sense. I know people probably don’t mean it the way I hear it. It’s (I hope) usually asked out of genuine concern and compassion. But it sounds like an implication that something must be wrong with me to make me feel this way. As if...
On the first Christmas, nobody believed Mary when she said that the baby inside of her was the son of God. Nobody believed Joseph when he said it wasn’t his, and disrespected him when he stuck by his soon-to-be wife. The two of them had to travel on a donkey for over sixty miles in the sweltering desert, Mary while heavily pregnant. When they got to Bethlehem, nobody had a room for...
Hurting people hurt people. It’s a cliche, but a true one. You get so caught up in your own wounds and staring at your own scars that you pay no attention to the ones you’re creating on others. You start drowning people in the tears that steadily run down your face. Hurting people can lean on one another. But the problem begins when we pull on one another, push one another down...
Existing without living. I think it happens to everyone sometimes. There are mornings, days, nights, where you fade into the backdrop. Like a photo pulled slowly out of focus until all you see are blurs of colors blending together that may have, at one time, been a sunset or a girl laughing or a cup of coffee. It’s like…floating. No, more like drifting. It’s sort of like...
You have something that gets to you. Something that hits you somewhere on the inside and it doesn’t feel good. It wears you out. Everybody does. Something that’s just replaying itself in the endless cycle of your thoughts, then for a while, as hard as you might try not to, you just think about it. And think about it. It’s almost as if you tried to hit the pause button,...
Ever have those days? Where you’re stuck not knowing how to feel, and then all of a sudden you’re feeling it all at once? The sadness. The happiness. The bitterness. The fear and stress. The confusion and the fresh understanding. The anger and the love. The excitement and the joy and the anxiety. The utter exhaustion. It all converges on you all at one time, and then out of nowhere...
Why doesn’t anyone write any songs about being 17? Why doesn’t anyone write about that place in between just a taste of freedom 16 and legal-adult-almost-complete-liberation 18? Why is that place never visited? I guess I can tell you. Seventeen is where you get handed some of the burdens of adulthood while you’re still stuck with the weak muscles of a child. Seventeen is...
Well…I don’t know why I’ve decided to start blogging again. Maybe because it’s therapeutic. And I know I do this again and again, blogging on for 6 months and then going off for two or three or ten. And I can’t say I won’t stop again. But for right now, I’ve started. Why not? It’s Senior year, and I’ve got a lot of stories to tell and words...
If you’ve ever had your heart broken, you’re damaged goods. Wait, before you get offended. Let me explain. To have your heart broken means to give a piece of your heart to a person, or a thing, and to have that person or thing somehow let you down. Whether it was intentional or not. For me, it was a person. On January 28th, two years ago, my grandpa died of a heart attack. I loved him. Still...
Right Now, I'm Happy.
Everyone is getting along. It’s the weekend. I took the easiest math quiz of my life today. I didn’t wear any makeup. It was 70 and sunny. I have a couple other reasons I won’t name, and you don’t want me to say a name unless you want me to gush. It was just a great day. This feels like a different kind of happy; it feels great. Right now, I am happy. And I love it.
In approximately 8 hours, I’ll be waking up to get ready to run a 5K. That’s 3.1 miles. I’m not worried about the distance, I’ve run it before. But this is my first 5K in front of people. This is my first time running in front of people in general. Like, ever. But before we get into my anxiety, let me explain what the SJ5K is. This year will be our second annual one...
All The Faint Lights - Steve Moakler
It comforts me knowing that we all look up at the same sky. That it doesn’t matter what ethnicity we are or what background we come from, that we all look up at the same stars for hope. That although we are all created so complex and so individual, we’re all human. We all breathe the same air and watch the same sunrises and sunsets. The same rain hits our skin, the same sunlight shines...
Okay, so last week I set what possibly could have been a record. I normally don’t get angry often. It’s just not in me. Irritated? Yes. Annoyed? Yes. Peeved? Sure, if you prefer that word. But this week, I got angry. Three times, I think. Like, “I’m shaking, leave me alone, (insert multiple swear words of your choice here)” angry. It was strange, to be completely...
If you’ve known me personally for any length of time, by now you’ve most likely realized that I have a problem. And for those of you who don’t know, I apologize a lot. It usually comes as “sorry.” I do it so much. And apologizing for something you’ve done wrong isn’t bad at all. It’s good. But I’ve reached the point where I apologize for...
I think on the inside, we’re all broken. Sometimes it shows on the outside. But we all have something. Something that breaks us. And broken can’t fix broken, but I think we get to hold each other together. We get to be each other’s Band-Aids. We get to keep each other from falling apart or getting worse, even though we can’t heal. We can’t. Band-Aids don’t...