Pieces

There I am,
standing in the middle
of this room,
completely empty,
and dark.
No light shines in,
there are no windows.
I stand there,
in the center.
I look around,
all I see is emptiness.
Until I look down,
and for a moment
I have hope,
a mere glimmer of hope
that I may not be alone.
I bend down
and pick up a small piece
of what's scattered about.
I look at it,
it's full of colors,
full of happiness.
I put it back,
and pick up another.
This one isn't so pretty,
very dark and dismal.
All these pieces,
they represent something.
Pieces of my life, pieces of memories.

In a Land of Fear

I went looking for something
I could not find
I kept on searching
with it in mind

Over there,
perhaps here,
but never it did appear.
But on I looked ever still,
exploring lands of perfect fear.

Until one day,
I came across,
A place where cheer
was the cost.

But there I found it.
Yes, it was there,
in a land that held
my most precious fear.

A Metaphor of Epic Proportions and a Recent Thought or Two.

A metaphor of epic proportions.

Everyone's heard the little cheesy saying, "All the world's the stage..." Well, I've been thinking about that phrase, and I think it's true. The world is a stage, and we're all just actors in it. We each get our own character, and background story. We each get our moment to shine, our own "spotlight" at some point. Some people are better actors than others, some struggle to memorize lines, just as some people struggle to survive in life. Something I've realized recently, mostly because of the end of another school year, the end of the year, like the end of the run of a show, is sad, but it's never too sad, because you're not really saying "goodbye", it's more of "until next show" or in school, "until next fall". Doing multiple shows, you're position, or character is constantly changing, just like you must as you grow up. You grow and change. You meet new people in each phase of life, just like you meet new people during your next show. Yes, some of the people are the same, but there's always someone you don't know. There are so many different ways I can relate theatre to "life".

A recent thought or two.

A wise friend once told me "sometimes you have to let go of the things you love." I've been trying to wrap my mind around this concept. It doesn't seem to logically make sense. If you love something, why would you let it go? I mean, I guess somethings you have to, you're forced to, but why would you willingly give up something you love? Her response would have been "... to let it grow, and be what it is" or something along those lines. And she's probably right. I guess it's one of those really hard things in life that you don't really want to do but know you must. I'm having a really hard time letting go of a few things, I'm trying really hard to though. A recent event (for lack of a better word) has made me see that I really do need to let go, I need to, but a part of me still doesn't want to. It's a horrible dilemma. Knowing you need to do something, but not wanting to, or not being able to. I guess part of me thinks that letting go is losing the little bit of it that I still have, and I don't want to lose it. When you cherish something so much it takes a lot of work to let it go. But I'm going to try. I'm determined to put forth an effort and be strong enough to let go. Hopefully things will work out for the best. And even if they don't, that's okay, too. I'm just going to keep asking God to guide me along my "journey".

Mr. Young's class

I sit in this class,
I'm auditing, I'm not enrolled,
it's a class I've taken,
and passed.
These freshmen,
they make me wonder,
was I like this as freshmen?
I don't think so.
There is such a variety of students here.
The ones who genuinely try,
the ones who do the work just to pass,
the ones who don't care at all,
and in fact, are failing.
It makes me wonder about the differences,
why am I so inclined to succeed
when others are okay with failure.
What made this difference?
Is it the teacher?
The parent?
I think it starts before high school,
it must.
I've always been a hard worker,
with the need for success.
A drive for success is key.
I think it falls on the parent.
Not always, but typically.
There are always exceptions,
but generally speaking,
I think it's the parents.
They need to have high expectations,
especially if they want to see success.
Higher expectations leads to
higher success.
And vice versa.

Candid Smiles.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words,
it captures the moments, the people, everything.
We look just to see the captured moment.
Sometime it's even better than the real thing.
I like the candid shots.
I like to see the real smile, unforced and so natural.
It brings a smile to my face,
the memories flood back in my mind.
Looking at you in these pictures,
you look wonderful,
so happy.
It makes me smile when I look at them.
Takes away any bad feeling I may be having,
and replaces it with something so much better.
Even if I can't be there for the real smiles,
I can look at these,
feeling the happiness brought by your smile.

Dear Friend,

It seems as if you forget about me a little more each day. I'd say it seems that you care about me a little less each day, but I know that's not true. You still care, you're just busy, and there are other "things" in your life right now. So the only word that seems to fit is "forget", we don't talk as much as we use to or about what we use to. Part of me is afraid that you got bored with only ever hearing about my feelings, and I'm sorry if that's the case, but I thank you with all my heart for being there. I also have been trying to stop nagging you about certain "things". Without talking about my feelings or other "things", there isn't much left, and that makes me sad. We use to be able to talk for hours, about anything and everything. Something changed and I don't like it. I know these "things" distract you, and that I have no right to think that I should be your center of attention, but I was, sorta, for a little while, and that was nice, I don't get to be the center of attention often, nor do I wish to be, but it was nice. These "things" make me cringe when I think about them and how they affect you. It makes me incredibly sad. You don't realize how much it affects me, too. But I wish you the best of luck, and hope you find happiness in the paths you're choosing. I hope things between us will restore to the normalcy that I've grown to cherish. Thanks for all that you've done for me.

Sincerely yours,
Me

Infinite Directions

There are just too many thoughts and feelings running through my veins. The thoughts in my brain make my head spin. It feels as if I'm about to explode with emotions and thoughts are just going to leak out from my brain through my ears. Such a variety of emotions, too, all for different reasons. I want to get them all out. I can't though because as soon as I start thinking about one, another interjects and I loose my place and have to start over. I just can't get them organized. They're everywhere. There's one over there and another over here. This one fits in this category, and these two don't have categories at all. It makes me so confused. I feel hopelessly lost. My brain is like an intersection of an infinite number of streets going in infinite number of directions, and all have infinite number of paths connecting to each other. I'm just stuck in the middle trying to make a decision as to which way to go in this infinte place.

Attention Deficit

Protective. Jealousy.
Two words that describe my feelings,
intertwined under my surface.
It's all because
she steals the attention
that I attempt to gain,
but you never seem to see
how i long for it.
And just as it is in reach,
she snatches it,
and in a moments notice,
it's gone,
as if it never existed.
Then I feel hurt,
and I shut down,
you think it's from stress,
but I know the real reason.
Couldn't you give me
just a little attention?

My poetry has been lacking lately, I just haven't had any real inspirtation.. this one just seems to be a collaboration of thoughts...

Disappearing Act

All she wanted,
was to disappear
so she packed her bags,
and drove here.
She went on running,
just to get away,
even though part of her wanted to stay.
Through all their fear,
they hoped and prayed
that she had stayed.
So they kept on looking,
searching the streets,
but they never find her,
because she succeeded.
She disappeared.

I admit, this isn't my best piece of work, but I needed to write. Most of my other stuff is better. I'm not sure if I was saying that more to convince your or to convince myself.

Inspiration, or lack thereof.

I keep searching,
but it eludes me;
there's nothing there.
I want to write,
to have words flow from me
like water from a cupped hand.
But those words,
they never come.
They leave me empty,
they leave me desirous.
I keep searching for words
that aren't meant to be found.

I want to be inspired.
Perhaps lack of inspiration
is inspiration in itself.

A reminder from God.

I saw the most beautiful sunset today. I didn't get to actually watch it, only a passing glance. I was on my way home from my dad's house, and I looked up. It was amazing. The most beautiful shades of violet fading into indigo and blue as they stretched toward the sky. Then some very magnificent oranges and yellows as my eyes came back toward the sun. I then passed a park, which allowed me to see the lake. It was all so stunning. The way the sun brought out the beautiful blues in the lake was absolutely amazing. The lake was so calm and peaceful. I couldn't turn my eyes away. It was a wonderful gift from God. A reminder to me that no matter how bad my day was, he's always there for me.

lately...

I've been thinking.. a lot. It's made me realize some things, it's made me learn new things about myself as a person. I've realized what in my life has made me the way I am, what things have caused me to have issues, such as my lack of trust in everyone. But even though I've learned a lot and thought a lot, there doesn't seem to be much for me to say. Most of the time I still feel pretty lost, but I'm being a lot more accepting of it. I'm starting to realize that eventually I'll figure stuff out, and even if I don't, that's okay, too.

"...it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."

Sunday Secret: Clumsy

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