Hey guys, I know, this blog has lacked posts for quite a while.

 I just got done from suffering a long bout of multiple bipolar episodes, primarily depression- depression was super bad this time, and I even missed work and class sometimes due to it, and even had no motivation to write in my journal, let alone poetry and short stories. I will hopefully start to write and thus post more poems on here and stuff now... hopefully. =/ 

 Hm, may as well give you something, too. Here's a couple of recent poem's I've written, if anyone still reads this. I've also wrote a short story a few weeks ago, but as I'm posting on my work computer right now, and it is saved on my home computer, I'll post it later if I remember.

 Demons:
They're watching, waiting,
for me to leave here.
But I am safe here in my room,
this is my sanctuary.
Out there, though, they are waiting;
The demons of my mind.
Always hiding behind my back,
around the corners,
everywhere I would least expect.
Watching, waiting, for me to slip up,
 to be distracted, to forget them,
and that's when they'll attack.
They'll find me, chase me, catch me, hunt me.
They are not there, not real, I tell myself,
like that will even help,
as I dash in panic from the bathroom to my room.
These nonexistent shadows are going to get me one day,
if I don't somehow destroy them first.

(untitled)
I am a Tiger (without any teeth)
A Giraffe (who can’t reach the treetop)
A Rhinoceros (whose horn has been broken)
An Eagle (whose wings have been clipped).
 I crash when I fly, drown when I swim,
trip when I run, shake when I crawl.
 I am a Shark (without any fins)
A Spider (without any legs)
A Wolf (whose howl has been silenced)
A Dragon (who cannot breathe fire).


Hope y'all enjoyed them! =]

Comments on TJ Leyden's talk on hate-speech and neo-Nazi brainwashing

Well, in the course of my business in college, the other day I attended an amazing, yet somewhat terrifying, lecture. It was called “StrHate Talk: Turning Away from Hate”, and the person speaking was TJ Leyden, a former Neo-Nazi turned anti-hate speaker.
He spoke about his life, journey through the ranks, and then his realization that this life was not a good one and he had to get out. This realization came when his 5-year-old son and he were watching a TV program, which happened to have some black people in it, and then his 3-year-old son came up to them, turned off the TV, and said “We don’t watch shows about Niggers.” At first, he was proud of his son, but then he began to think about it and realized that his son was on the path to becoming a second-generation neo-Nazi, a life that he did not want for his sons. So he got out, and then began to realize how destructive that culture he had been in was, and how outside that bubble, things were a lot different. Thus he eventually went to law enforcement to explain some of the neo-Nazi culture- being cautious, since a fair amount of neo-Nazis are police- and began to teach about the culture and how addicting it was, how bad it was, in order to educate people and show them that it is the wrong path. His story was interesting and eye-opening, yet terrifying. The way the culture blinds you to everything, and fosters so much hate, is unbelievable, as well as the fact that there are neo-Nazi factions in the military, even as lieutenants- and it is perfectly legal! As long as one isn’t doing outright criminal acts, there is nothing saying one cannot be in a hate group, which is scary, especially since the numbers of people in it are so high… A video-game was mentioned, called “Ethnic Cleansing,” that came out in the 90s. It sold over 8 million copies. Since then, many other games have been made, all become high-sellers. That in itself proves how prominent the hate culture really is, far more than I had ever realized.
Oh, and he also mentioned that Toms River, where I live, is apparently the headquarters of one of the main neo-Nazi gangs (Hammerheads, I believe they were called)? I had no clue! That would explain a lot though, since there are a lot of gang members there, and have been increasing in numbers lately. Plus my mom would tell me to avoid certain areas because there were lots of gang activity there, and now that I think of it I don’t recall a single teacher in my area who wasn’t white- the whole board of education is white, they are known for being very political and corrupt, and according to TJ, many neo-Nazis end up infiltrating the military, police force, and politics. It is very scary. NJ has over 40 hate groups, ranking in at 5th most in the country. Many of them are neo-Nazi run. How could I have been oblivious to all of this, going on right under my nose? A term that is used is “Separatist,” another name for racist, and the belief of that is that all races should be divided. Thus, there are races other than white who are neo-Nazis too- which would explain the huge groups of blacks in my high school who refused to associate anyone who wasn’t black, why specific parts of South Toms River are places whites should avoid at all cost, and why my town of Beachwood is almost entirely white. I grew up with this dynamic, which is why it felt so strange to me when I got to college, and all of a sudden races were intertwined. I suddenly hear of mixed-race couples, which would have been a rarity in my school- under threat of harassment and bullying. Why did I not notice this at all? It really is scary, how growing up with something like that can cause one to think it is normal, which is what TJ was saying- he became immersed in the culture, and before he knew it he was recruiting others, dedicated to the cause, and thinking that it was essentially the norm and that people who weren’t like them were wrong. You don’t even notice how far gone you are or how blind you are, until you’re out. My town is racist, and thus, grew up with slightly racist views, without even being aware of them. Until I got to college, and then took this class, I had not realized this at all, except for the occasional surprise where a black person would completely defy all stereotypes. Although, come to think of it, when that happened at first, I remember myself actually classifying them as being “white inside,” or something along those lines. The amounts of racist jokes in my high school were much higher than I hear now, too, as well as the amounts of hate speech. Why did I never realize this before now, is all I can think about. I am still in shock over it!
TJ told us that every time we laugh at something racist, or turn away, we are in fact telling the racist that it is okay, and that we must speak out and tell them it is wrong. Which makes sense; but I don’t think I can do this. I still laugh at racist things, despite knowing it is wrong. I still look away when someone is being bullied, out of fear of being hurt or bullied myself. I am not strong enough yet to do this. Perhaps if it is a child I can, but someone my own age? I doubt I could, sadly. This program was definitely a real-eye opener, though, and I still absolutely cannot believe how this culture could have existed right under my nose without me knowing hardly anything about it! I no longer think that racism is getting better, at all. In fact, it is more powerful than ever, and terrifying.

Hair

Hair. Let’s talk about hair. More specifically, haircuts. There are two things I have to say about them.

First of all, I want to talk about the Black Barber Shop, as I like to call it. It was in Ewing. The best haircut I ever received was there. It was a little more expensive than the places back home, but I needed a haircut. This was back when my hair was longer. The barber shop was the only one somewhat within walking distance from TCNJ (still half an hour though). When I entered it, well, quite frankly, my heart skipped a beat- literally. Everyone in the shop was black males. There were many patrons, too, so the wait was about an hour (apparently they were a really good place, and took their time and care with their cuts). I was very disconcerted, being the only white female there. Then, I came to a realization: is this how black people feel when they end up in a room full of white people, which often happens in many schools? I was shocked. Never before had I realized how they must feel; I had simply never even thought about it. They were really nice to me, too, which would rarely ever happen in the reverse situation, with one black and the rest white, which extremely surprised me, as well. I was very pleasant, though, so that may have helped, although I was obviously a bit weirded out by the experience, so they were sympathetic, too, it seemed. The haircutter even gave me a discount! So it was a bit of a strange experience, yes, but very insightful and rewarding in retrospect.

The second hair cut experience, or rather, experiences, since it happened more than once, related to me short hair. When I first got it cut so short, the barber did not want to do it. She said my hair was too pretty to cut it that short. I insisted, however, so she did it; but still not as short as I would have liked, and left it more “feminine;” that was not what I wanted at all, being genderqueer. I wanted a boy’s haircut, and I told her this. Yet the next barber did the same thing, when I went a month later to get it cut again (short hair grows much more noticeably than longer hair). She said, “You want it wispy in back, more feminine, like a pixie cut, correct.” It was a statement, not a question. I told her, “No. Shave the back; use the razor. I want a boys cut.” She reluctantly did it, but still left it to what she considered a bit more feminine than a boy’s cut and longer on top rather than all even, as I had asked. I ended up trimming it myself later, luckily managing not to mangle it too much. I am going for a haircut again soon, too, since it once again needs trimming… I hope this time they accept my desire to have a more boyish cut.

Activism- simpler than it seems.

Recently I finished reading a book called “Jumpstart the World” by Catherine Ryan Hyde. It deals with some issues in the GLBT community, with a focus on the Transgender aspect.

One of the characters, Frank, said “We all [as humans] pretty much agree on certain things. Equality and stuff like that. But whenever it turns up missing, people just let it slide.” This is true for all types of discrimination, whether towards race, gender, age, sexuality, or other things. If it doesn’t apply to them, people they know, or people in the same group, many people simply ignore discrimination, or don’t even notice it in the first place.

So activism shouldn’t be about fighting those who oppose you, rather about getting the world to notice there’s a problem in the first place that needs to be addressed rather than being ignored or unseen. Even as little as wearing a shirt or a button, or putting a bumper sticker on a car, can do wonders. Many people don’t help causes they believe in because they don’t think there’s anything they can do, but that couldn’t be more wrong; every tiny little thing helps, because it gets people to notice, which is the most important thing. Once people notice, they become aware that there is a problem and then steps can be taken to change that problem.

This is also connected to the “single-story” theory (which states that discrimination arises out of only hearing one story about a group, thus making that story part of the group’s definition); simply making people aware that there are multiple stories can be a great form of activism for any group, since then people discover that there is more to a group than just the “single-story” they have heard.

Don’t let inequality slide. Show them the gritty truth of discrimination, by doing whatever you can, even if it’s just a little bit, to make people aware of the full-picture.

What is a Friend?

(This is a little essay about friendship I wrote for my Interpersonal Communication class. =] )


“Friend.” A word people use every day. Yet, what is a friend, truly? The dictionary.com definition is “a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.” Many people say they have tons of friends- 50, 100, or more. Facebook is one of the reasons of this, yet in reality, most of these people are only really acquaintances. Me, well, I only have a handful of what I call friends- approximately 13 at last count. Is my definition that different from society’s? Well, let me explain what I believe to be the term “friend” is.

First of all, a friend is someone you can trust with your thoughts, opinions, and you’re your true self. Someone who will listen to what you say and accept it, without judging. That is important- if someone judges you for who you are, then they are not a true friend. I only came to this realization fairly recently. I am genderqueer- that is, feel that I am a blur between male and female- and my friend Jordan is female to male transgender. We are both, however, wary of sharing this with many people. Jordan in particular has lost a lot of his “friends” because he is transgender- they didn’t accept him for who he is. They were not true friends.

A friend is someone who sticks by you, in thick or thin. They will not abandon you when you are full of tears, and will sit calmly and listen to you rant. Of course, they can’t be expected to drop everything at a dime’s notice to do this, but they find at least some time to comfort you, and definitely don’t avoid you completely when you’re feeling bad. A friend is someone you can be with in whatever mood you are in, happy or sad. You don’t have to hide your feelings from them, since you can trust them to be understanding. A friend cares about you, and thus will try to help you when you’re down.

A friend may not always agree with you, but they will not press this and certainly won’t argue with you extensively about whichever subject you don’t agree on. Well, at least not with anger or upset- some friends do argue jokingly or casually, after all; yet in this case, a friend also knows when to stop arguing if you start to feel upset.

A friend is also someone who is honest with you. True, some friends will lie, to protect you- this is merely a kindness though, and means they care about you enough to worry about your feelings. However, they will not lie to you in order to save their own butt. If they do something wrong, they will be open with you about it, and apologize for their actions. Why? Because they trust you to understand, as a true friend should. Alternatively, a friend also understands when you do something wrong, as well. People do make mistakes, after all, so a friend will not hold those mistakes against you. They do not take advantage of this, though, either- they will of course try to avoid making those mistakes which upset you.

I suppose that the bottom line here is that a friend, essentially, is someone you can trust with your soul. Someone you are not afraid to share yourself with, your entire self, and who will do the same for you. Friendship is a mutual thing, of course. A friend is someone who cares about and trusts you, and who you care about and trust as well.

petty people (rant)

I am so fed up with the pettiness of people!
We're college students, dammit, show some dignity!
You're supposed to know how to respect people.
Seriously, what harm has my little door sign done to you?
Nothing, it's just sat there, happily reminding people that it's a safe zone.
It's because of people like you that everywhere's not safe, after all-
you can just give us one little place, our own rooms, to feel safe, can't you?
It's petty, what you're doing
What do you get out of ripping down anything with even a hint of the queer community?
Learn to accept people- it's what college is for,
expanding your mind and giving yourselves a broader view of the world.
Not for hating people and putting them down.

And what's more is that my nice little, harmless sign is now MIA.
And no, it hasn't fallen off- someone actually had the gall to steal it.
I know, because I attached it very strongly the first time it 'fell' down,
and even more securely the next ten times.

I'm trying to advocate love and acceptance here-
Why do hateful people have to be around,
and make that so much more impossible?
I advocate against hate, but those people,
whoever they are, are making me a hypocrite:
I genuinely HATE them!!

Things college has taught me

College is more than simply learning academic stuff and getting a degree. It changes a person, a lot. Many life lessons are learned there, opening your mind to a much larger view of the world. Here are some things that college has taught me.


Well, first of all, it's taught me a lot about diet. Freshman year I gained a tremendous amount of weight, caused by both a medication side effect and, primarily, eating all the wrong things. Contrary to popular belief, a diet of pasta, chips, cookies, pizza, chinese food, and lots of cheesy things is not good for you. so over the summer and the fall semester of this year, I researched a whole lot about healthy diets, saw a dietitian, talked to my aunt who is a nutritionist, and followed through with all that advice. And lost, so far, over 30 pounds, and many inches off my waist, also due to exercising more- but not that much more at all, just the gym a few times a week, for half an hour, or going to the aikido (japanese martial arts) club, or playing manhunt and capture the flag with my friends. I went from between a sizes 14 and 16 to a size 8- even smaller than before college, where I was between a 10 and 12! And all it took was, essentially, cutting out soda, fried and greasy fast-food stuff, and limiting the cookies, chips, pizza, etc. Moderation, people, that's all it takes.

But the weight loss also opened my eyes up to something else: friends judge you and get worried when you lose such a large amount. They decided I must have an eating disorder. True, there was some ground in that assumption, since I had problems with that in high school, but this time I legitimately lost weight healthily. But they didn't believe me at all. It is true that an eating disorder never truly goes away- I still think about the calories in everything and worry when I consume too much, but overall I've been working very hard to be healthy and not slip in to a disorder again. But this did teach me that people never truly forget things, and messing up once makes people more wary of you possibly messing up again.

College has also taught me a whole lot about working and budgeting. in high school, I had some small part time jobs, but all that money essentially went towards fun. In college, though, I have a job at the library, making much more than in high school, but I have to save it- and spend it on more than just fun. I have to buy food, shampoo, food for my pets, etc. So I have to budget, and create limits to what I can get with my extra money. And, oh yeah, save some of it to pay to the college for tuition- that's a biggie. I had to restrain myself from buying that cute little earring set, or that cool action figure, so I would have money for toothpaste and tissues.

Also, it taught me about the importance of work ethic. I have always been a hard worker, doing what was assigned right away and doing the best I could to tidy up and make things nice. Some of my coworkers, however, were not like this at all. They would put off tasks until after they checked facebook, or leave trash in the cubby hole next to the desk- when there was a garbage a few paces away. So, I got promoted and they didn't, simple as that. Made some of them pretty angry. I now make two dollars more than I did when I started, and they make the same as they did, no raises or promotions at all. Hopefully, they learned something from that- so far, though, looks like they didn't.

Oh, and time management was a biggie, too. I had to learn when to say no to friends in order to study or do homework. Study! I had hardly ever studied in high school, but I found myself needing to for some college subjects. Which I didn't realize until it was too late. First semester freshman year, I had a very difficult chemistry class. I barely passed it. I had been used to getting all A's, with an occasional B, in high school- but I found that I was failing a class for the first time. I had been slacking, electing to go out with friends when I really needed to read the chapter or look over my notes for the test the next day. Finally, I realized that I had to say no sometimes. I had to forgo an evening with friends to study for a test. I managed to pass the class, but just barely- so next semester I made sure to read the books and study, and managed all A's and B's. But that was a real eye-opening for me!

And another thing about time management- I learned that sometimes, it might be necessary to choose between doing a lot of things, and doing well at a few things. I tried to join a whole lot of clubs, and found myself overwhelmed. Eventually, I had to pick just a few, and when I put the time into these few rather than spreading myself thin over a bunch of clubs, I felt a lot happier, and even scored some executive board positions- which i am able to effectively do because I set aside the time for them by only being in a few clubs.

The same thing applied to classes, too- This last semester, I found myself in a very difficult class, that was costing me tons of time to do all the work for- and even then I wasn't able to do the work very well. There wasn't enough time to do all that work and my other work, meaning at least one class was going to suffer. I realized that the best thing to do, then, was to drop the class. It would have made my grade suffer way to much, possibly bringing my GPA down low enough to lose my scholarship, since it was already on the brink from that chemistry class. It wasn't even that necessary of a class- a liberal learning requirement, not part of my major. I could simply take a different class in place, or take it at community college over the summer. The lesson I learned? It is okay to give up sometimes. I had never been a person to do that, but I suddenly found myself dropping a class!

Also, sometimes there were things I couldn't do well, in clubs or groups, but others could. I learned to, instead of trying to do it myself, but to ask for help- or even give it up to the other person. Humility, I suppose it is called. I learned that being headstrong was not the best thing to always be. A huge lesson for me, since I had been used to being able to do everything by myself, at least mediocrally. But I learned that rather than me doing something mediocrally alone, sometimes if you ask for help, the thing can instead be done amazingly. In one of my classes, this happened- I was trying to do a project alone, but couldn't do it well, so I opted to have a partner, and we were able to work out a solution to the project that made it simply amazing- much more amazing than if we had done it alone!

Well, that's all I can think of that I learned at the moment- but I can assure you, there probably are many more things I learned, and will learn by the time college is over.

'Til next time!
~Larissa~

Butterflies

Butterflies

Tender as a butterfly

Your lips flutter by mine,

Brush them lightly,

Softly land on my cheek.

They don't rest long,

Butterflies rarely do.

They are on my neck,

Send shivers down my spine.

Awaken the butterflies

Living in my stomach.

Spread them throughout my body.

My existence now flows

With nothing more than

These butterflies, and you.

Hyper Organization

So, lately, I've been really obsessed with organizing stuff.
Like, super obsessed.
I've decided that I need order in my life.
And since I'm not getting it much,
I decided to take charge and do what I can-
that is, organizing all I can in the house-
and getting rid of unnecessary things.
I went through the medicine cabinet-
which had something that expired in 1989
(great job, mom, we weren't even in the house yet).
Then I went through the fridge-
which had some really gross stuff shoved in back.
Like, I'm talking year-old beef stew,
a very mushy plum, pasta that had liquified (how is that possible?!)
And some mustard that had gotten really funky
(I thought mustard lasted a long time- like five years or more, wtf mom?)
Okay, enough with the fridge.
I moved onto the freezer next,
which had long-dead freezer-burned meat.
With all that gone, the freezer actually has room in it!
Amazing, we don't have to stuff stuff in at all!
Next came the cabinet.
Unsurprisingly, there were many stale chips and crackers and cereals.
For some reason, my family doesn't ever eat the last bit of those.
They say they will, but then open a new package.
What a waste! I'd finish them, but I don't eat chips.
I usually do finish off crackers though,
but I eat so little, so I really need help with that.
And there were soggy rice crispy treats shoved in back.
I never knew they could become soggy like that.
Next came the recipe books- all 50 of them.
Mom had to help with that, since they're hers...
but wow, did she want to keep a lot of them!
I mean, you only really need like ten, fifteen at most (and that's stretching it),
if you're going for the specialized books and stuff.
I myself have only like five- a general one, bakery stuff, fish, etc.
That's all you really need.
But she still kept thirty... oh, she'll never learn.
They contain the same stuff as other cookbooks, too.
She has two huge general cookbooks,
so why keep all the additional ones,
save for a few favorite specialized ones?
We barely use the cookbooks anyway.
Ah, and I've been working on my room a lot, too.
By working on it, I mean reorganizing it.
Buying new containers, putting stuff in them,
putting smaller containers in larger ones,
putting loose papers in binders or folders,
getting rid of a lot of old stuff I don't need,
trying on clothes and getting rid of the ones I dislike,
mostly those grandma has 'passed down' to me-
aka, she doesn't want it anymore and thinks I will.
Like I want her old oversized t-shirts and panties.
Yes, she tried giving me her old undies once.
Really gross, right? And she saw nothing wrong with it...
My other grandma gives me things I like though,
like some nice shoes or a sweater.
She even gave me a few really nice dresses!
She shops a lot- shoes especially-
so when she realizes she has three pairs of white shoes already,
she lets me pick one of them.
Anyway, back to the organizing...
yeah, my jewelry is now all divided into nice boxes-
bracelets, necklaces, collars, armbands, earrings, etc.
I even have my few make-up things in little boxes.
And, of course, my many bottles of nail polish-
I have it in every color of the rainbow.
Ah, and books.
I tend to kinda collect books-
that is, see one that sounds interesting and bring it home.
Then put it in the pile of stuff I need to read.
So I constantly have to purge that pile,
since I don't get to read much anymore.
So I pick out the few most interesting ones,
and give the rest to charities or book swaps or the library.
The gym I go to has a neat book swap thing,
where you can drop books off and take them at will.
Many are older womens books though,
since the gym is next to seniorville,
and apparently medicaid actually pays for their gym time.
I guess they figure healthier old people get sick less,
which is true, so it's ultimately beneficial.
It's nice, though, I go with my mom,
and it's an all-women's gym so it's not as intense as most gyms.
Anyway, I'm off topic again...
Well, I'm sure you don't want to hear anymore of my organizing,
since it probly gives most people headaches...
I just tend to be a little compulsive about cleaning sometimes.
Especially with all that pesky dirt that sneaks under fingernails... *shivers*

False Alarm!

Brett is okay!
Turns out my phone's the culprit. Again.
I figured out how to wire my e-mail to send texts,
sent him a message,
and he replied right away.
Meanwhile, my phone has also been more bad:
mom tried to call me, many times in a row,
and my phone didn't work, didn't get them!
Virgin Mobile sucks.
Unfortunately, I don't know if I can afford another company.
No other offers low-minute plans with unlimited texts.
I text, and rarely call!
Most other companies have minumum limit plans of 450 minutes.
I use only about 100 a month, if that.
Why can't companies have good plans for students like me,
who can barely afford plans with stuff they don't use???

paranoia

I'm scared. Really scared.
I haven't spoken with my friend Brett in over three weeks.
Since July second, to be precise.
There's no reason for him to be mad at me or anything;
We hung out July 1st, had a great time,
and were chatting via text after and the next day.
But then, he just stopped replying.
So, maybe his phone ran out of power or something, I figured.
So a few days later, I texted him again. No reply.
So I tried calling. Voicemail.
It's been three weeks now.
I tried contacting him a few other times,
but to no avail.
I even tried e-mailing him,
which is pretty much useless since he never checks e-mail,
but it was worth a shot.
So phone's the only way I can contact him.
Now, logic says maybe his phone broke,
or maybe my phone's being stupid,
since it's a crap cheep company that has lots of problems.
My crazy mind thinks:
Oh no, something must have happened to him!
He could be in the hospital, or dead or something!
I always jump to crazy conclusions like that,
and it's really hard to shake them.
I get paranoid. A lot.
Especially about my friends.
Now, I know he can't be dead,
since there would be a news article or something online about it.
And even if he were in the hospital, he would contact me.
Unless he's in a coma...
oh, god, I hope he's not in a coma!
Shhh, calm down, calm down...
Larissa, stop it, stop thinking the worst...
Ugh, it sucks that he doesn't have a facebook,
or any kind of virtual presence
(at least involving his name;
maybe he has a username or something,
but I don't know it if he does.)
So there's no way for me to find out if he's alright.
Even if he is ignoring me/mad at me or something,
I would at least like to know if he's alright.
No, he can't be mad at me or ignoring me,
everything was perfectly fine between us,
and he said he'd maybe come over again,
and would definitely see me in the fall when school starts up.
We were even working out how we'd get our roomates out of the rooms.
And even if he were, he would definitely have replied,
when I texted him freaking out asking if he were okay and stuff.
So, if it can't be any of that, What the hell happened to him??
Okay, let's list more viable things:
1. He has overprotective parents. They may have taken his phone.
2. Maybe he went on vacation and has no cell signal/left phone at home.
3. Maybe he isn't getting my texts and the calls are dropping,
that's happened before- my phone company seems to have problems with his.
4. He's a sadistic bastard and is getting a rise out of me freaking out over this.
(Okay, maybe that last one isn't that viable, I do know he cares about me a lot.
I mean, he even asks my friends how I'm doing if I'm visiting them.)
Well, whatever it is, I know I have to stop freaking out.
it's just so hard, you know?
I'm an extremely paranoid person.
I freak out all the time that people hate me.
I freak out about my weight to the point of, well, nearly having an eating disorder.
Okay, it is an eating disorder... but I'm getting better, sort of.
Anyway, back to the subject:
Whatever it is, whatever the reason for not hearing from him,
I just have to be patient.
I know I will see him in the fall,
and everything will be good then.
I just have to stop being so paranoid...
Please, oh please, let him be okay.
God, I know I don't really believe in you,
but if you do exist,
please let him be okay.
And please let me know that he is.
I need to know he's okay.
Please, God, please.
Please.

Random Thoughts

On guys and girls:

So, a friend of mine and I were talking earlier about relationships, breakups, and stuff, and we came to quite an interesting realization:

Boys are actually much more emotional than girls.

Why, then, is the stereotype the opposite?

Well, basically, guys are generally just better at hiding those emotions.

Girls may cry more readily, but when it comes down to it, they are much more capable of dealing with poor relationships, breaks of friendship, and of course, rejection and breaking up with people.

Guys, however, become much more easily crushed when they are rejected or broken up with. As opposed to crying, however, they typically choose to close themselves up and pretend that it doesn’t affect them. But it does, of course.

Did you know that the suicide rate is much higher for boys than it is for girls? Yep. If that’s not an indication of how much more emotional and hurt they can get, I don’t know what is.

Perhaps it stems from the fact that they hide their emotions, and thus their friends cannot support them adequately when they feel down, simply because their friends don’t know. With girls, it is fairly obvious, for the most part, when they feel blue, and thus their friends comfort them and make them feel better. Guys, however, cannot recieve this comfort, for they hide these feelings.

Perhaps that is simply why they tend to become more emotional and miserable than females.

Then again, maybe it’s simply a genetic matter. Girls, after all, have to survive to reproduce, thus letting emotions get in the way of this survival is harmful to the species. Guys, however, are genetically indispensable, speaking scientifically, since only one guy is technically needed to make a society reproduce.

Either way you look at it, though, guys are definitely more hurt when they are broken up with or rejected. It takes them much longer to move on than girls, statistically, and they definitely close up after a break up, whereas a girl will be sad for a little bit and then move on, typically. You don’t hear of many girls moping over a relationship for long, yet guys can go on indefinitely moping, though they do try to hide it.

So, in short, girls can more easily get over stuff than guys. I guess that’s just another reason why being a girl is preferable to being a guy, hm?

On nice people:

Nice people seem very rare these days, especially on the roads. Most people cut you off, zoom ahead rather than let you in- it’s a rare person who actually slows down to let you ahead of them. Also, many people honk the second you do something they dislike, like stop for a yellow light they though you could go through.

I actually encountered some really nice people the other day.
As I was stopping, I accidentally slid into the back of their car.
We pulled over, and they got out to check the damage-
I was terrified, very apologetic,
because in past experiences, people are very mean to me about even a scratch.
But these people were very nice.
They were on a family vacation, and although I made a little dent,
they said it was perfectly fine, no real damage,
and didn’t even want to take my number or anything.
They ended up being one of those rare people who actually do simple nice things.

I felt happy after that, knowing those types of people still exist. =]

On sexuality:

“Hey, you.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes you.”

“What?”

“Are you gay?”

Conversations like this happen all the time. Why do so many people always want to know your sexuality? Yeah, close friends make sense, they should know, but random acquaintances? And what exactly are they going to do with that information, anyway? It’s not like someone’s sexuality determines what they’re like or who they are. it’s the same thing as asking a couple if they’ve had sex. It’s just personal, and shouldn’t be their business. If the person outright tells you they’re gay or whatever, that’s fine, but just don’t go around asking.

And for those who really do care if someone’s gay or not, the gay-haters, why? It should not be a factor that determines if you can be friends with them or not. Stop telling them they shouldn’t be gay, or they just haven’t found the right opposite-sex person for them or whatever. Let them have their freedom, they don’t go around telling you you shouldn’t be straight.

poetry dump (all my own work)

Carefully calculated calories

spread throughout the day.

Maniacally measured meals,

not one bite out of place.

Energetic excessive exercising

to counteract some of that food,

Vehemently vicious vomiting

to make up for the rest.

This is how she goes

throughout her day,

this is what her life’s become:

An endless diet created

to try to prove to herself

that she can be beautiful,

to make herself satisfied

with a weight she’ll never like,

no matter what the number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fear is the color of darkness, shadows, and night.

Fear smells like dust, must, and mold,

And tastes like rotten eggs.

Fear sounds like footsteps in a silent room,

And feels cold, clammy, and old.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fish

Lost and Alone

In a sea full of people,

Just another fish in that sea.

A fish without a school

is a very lonely fish indeed.

If only that fish could find a friend.

Not just any friend,

but one to share its life with,

one it could trust completely,

and not worry about upsetting it,

or causing it pain.

Then perhaps it would all be okay,

and the fish wouldn’t feel so alone

despite all the others surrounding it.

Perhaps then the fish would be happy,

and be able to live in peace.

All that fish needs is a friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Under the Tree

Lying in the grass under the
Old oak tree in my backyard,
Venus could only imagine
Exactly what I am feeling.

Logic tries to take over, but is
Overthrown by emotion. The two are
Vying to control my mind. It is
Eating away at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Watchers

On a cold city street

A child cries out

As he’s knocked to the ground.

.

In an elementary schoolyard

A young girl, brought to tears

By the names they yell.

.

In the hallway outside of class,

A rumor is whispered,

Just loud enough for its victim to hear.

.

No one speaks out.

No one defends them.

The ones who feel empathy

Don’t feel enough to risk

Becoming victims themselves.

.

They observe from the sidelines,

Watching as pain is brought upon

Their peers, their friends.

Yet all the do is watch,

Too afraid to do anything more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Confessions

I’m not as ‘fine’ as I tell people.

I cry at least thrice a week.

The scars on my arms and my stomach

and now leg never vanish completely,

for they never have time since new ones always appear

on top of the old before they can heal.

I’m sick of needing all these medications,

but I take them anyway because I am afraid

of what will happen if they aren’t there

to supress the unbalanced chemicals in my brain.

I’m afraid that I will go crazy,

crazier than I already am,

and end up in a psychiatric hospital just like my grandpa did.

Sometimes I have to force myself to eat.

I am obsessed with my weight,

to the point of where I look into a mirror

I immediately see all the fat on my body

that I am convinced shouldn’t be there

even though people tell me that my weight is fine,

and that I am beautiful, cute, charming, etc.

I don’t belive them,

even though I can tell that they honestly think that as they say it.

I’ve been trying so hard

to turn my life around, but it is just so difficult.

I feel trapped in a never-ending cycle of all this.

I am not saying this for sympathy, that is not what I want at all.

I am stating all this because if I hold it in,

I fear that I’ll do something stupid again,

something that I’ll regret.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snake Eats Mouse

Coils of muscle
and scales create waves,
As Snake slithers
and glides through brush.

Two dark beady
eyes, like lazers,
Trained on target,
ball of fur and fluff.

Mouse sits in grass
nibbling on seed.
Oblivious to danger
of stalking predator.

Tounge sweeps out,
tasting cool air.
Target is close,
Snake has found Mouse.

Ears stand straight
as weeds rustle.
Time to run,
but it is too late.

Two pointed daggers
laden with poison
Sink into skin,
crush tiny skull.

Seed falls to ground.
Mouse is now Food.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magick

Spirit.

Chakra.

Life force.

Magick.

Manna.

Energy.

Everyone has a different name for it,

yet everyone still has it, knows of it-

it is part of every religion,

part of every spiritual belief system.

It flows through everything.

It is called the force of life.

It is an everflowing energy that makes up the world.

Without it, there would be no life.

My religion, Wicca, calls it Magick.

It is the same thing as Christianity’s Spirit,

As the east’s chakra, and physic’s energy.

It is the force that flows through all.

Yet somehow, few people draw this connection.

Centuries of myths and rumors have caused some people,

especially those of christan and similar origin,

to believe that Magick is something supernatural,

something to fear, something of evil.

That is not what it is at all, and they would see this,

if they only took a moment to think about it,

to learn about it, and to realize

that they believe in it, too,

only under a different name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Put generic addiction title here, /blahblahblah

I’m addicted.

It’s an addiction.

I’ve tried to kick it,

but not matter how much I try,

I simply can’t in the end.

When they’re nearly healed,

my mind rebels.

they can’t heal, it says,

they’re a part of you now.

I try to fight it with logic,

saying no, I don’t need them,

but the addiction is stronger.

The knife comes out.

it slices the skin,

over and over,

until they are there.

Ridges of blood,

scarring over,

becoming lines of red

contrasting against my pale skin.

It’s a disease,

and it’s spreading.

What was once one or two

has become ten, no, more.

It inches up the arm,

First the left, then the right.

Then, slowly, elsewhere too,

and will continue doing so

until I am covered in them.

Why won’t this disease go away?

Is there no cure, like a cancer?

No, not a cancer, a drug,

Only it’s more addicting.

An escepe, that’s what it is.

An escape from myself,

from my emotions,

to the physical realm of pain.

It’s a drug that doesn’t come in a pill

or a powder or a smoke.

it’s embedded into my mind,

a drug of the mind.

And I am completely addicted;

no, that’s not it either.

I am dependent.

dependent on these cuts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Manic

Shaking, shaking.

Tap tap tap

on the desk;

calm calm down down,

shake shake shake,

thoughts, thinking,

rapid, racing,

overlapping,

overbearing,

try to hide it,

try to stop it,

it won’t stop,

it won’t stop.

hands, hands,

shaking, shaking,

hands, stop it.

No, wait,

now foot goes

tap, tap, tap.

Energy, energy,

so much energy!

Racing thoughts,

rapid speaking,

stop it, stop!

calm calm down down.

people are staring,

you’re saying it aloud,

talking to yourself,

stop it stop it, stop!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All Right

“Are you all right?”

“I’m all right.”

“You sure?’

“…Yeah.”

No.

I’m not sure

that I’m “all right.”

I am sure though

that I am not.

I am not “all right.”

“I’m never all right,”

Is what I’d like to say.

But you…

I can’t let you know.

Letting you know

would only hurt you.

Even if all it is

is a matter of

instering the word “not”

in between “I’m” and “all right.”

I’M NOT ALL RIGHT.

But for you,

and for the world,

I will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keep Returning

This thing that we have,
It’s some what ridiculous,
the way we keep trying to run,
saying it will never happen again,
yet that is a lie.
For some reason,
we just keep returning,
keep returning,
keep returning.
To each other,
to this life.
No matter how far we run,
no matter how unattached
we try to become,
For some reason,
we just keep returning,
keep returning,
keep returning.
We say it shouldn’t be,
but as time passes,
we both can’t stop thinking
about what we did,
and then we do it again.
For some reason,
we just keep returning,
keep returning,
keep returning.
perhaps we should just stop trying
to squash these feelings,
these feelings of attachment,
since they just refuse to go away,
and because of this,
For some reason,
we just keep returning,
keep returning,
keep returning.
Perhaps instead of returning,
we should just never leave.
Then we could be happy
and won’t have to ever lie
to ourselves ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

body or mind?

What do you want from me?

Do you even want me at all?

You confuse me,

say one thing,

and then say another.

It seems your body and mind want two different things.

Of course, I am in the same position, too, am I not?

What do I want from you?

Do I even want you at all?

Why must our bodies yearn for one another,

when our minds are clearly saying that it’s wrong?

Why must my body lust

for what it knows it shouldn’t have?

I love you, and I hate you.

How can these two emotions be so entwined?

Should I listen to the love, or the hate?

Should I listen to my body, or my mind?

And which will you listen to?

You confuse me.

And I’m pretty darn sure

that I confuse you, as well.

How can we possibly decide

what to do

amongst all this confusion,

this lust,

this love,

this hate,

this logic,

these minds,

these bodies?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be human

What does it really mean, to be human?

I believe it means nothing.

Being human means nothing at all,

nicht, naught, nada…

If we can say we’re human,

than everything is human.

“Human” is nothing more than a species name.

It doesn’t really mean anything.

A name is a name.

We are as much “human” as anything else living.

Everything on earth shares the same emotions,

pain, life, spirit, soul…

There is nothing that makes humans more special

than any of the other creatures on the planet.

Humans are the same as the dogs,

cats, deer, spiders, rabbits, snakes, and mice.

We are the same as the lizards,

geese, hedgehogs, pigs, parrots, and fish.

We all share the same essential things.

So, don’t go saying it means something different to be human

than it does to be a cat, fox, or whatever.

Because it really doesn’t.

It really, truly, doesn’t.

Because in the end,

we’re all the same,

and we’ll all end up as grass,

to be eaten by the wildabeast, then lions,

and whatever else.

So live life while you can,

and to its fullest at that,

but don’t believe for a second

that it’s any more special

just because you are human.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lost In the Void

Love.

Such a strong word,

but also so weak.

What does it really mean?

I think I’ve only

been pretending to know,

disillusioning myself.

We play around,

get into the heat,

but somehow,

deep down,

I can’t help but think

that this is merely a facade.

A “Virgin Slut,”

that’s what I am.

I fool around

with whoever’s willing,

cuddling intensely throughout the night.

I pretend to be infatuated,

but in the end,

all I feel is an empty void,

a black hole,

an endless abyss.

This is my soul,

this is what it does.

Trying to draw in all the things

that it knows it can never have,

that it will never truly know,

such as love.

I thought my apathetic soul had been cured,

but in the end,

the hole had simply grown,

and my soul tried to devour

everything it could

in order to quell it’s endless hunger.

It is forever expanding,

as I try desperately

for something,

however small and shallow,

to fill it.

Just a little emotion, for once,

is all I ask for.

BBut when I do find something,

it’s merely stale dirt,

covering me up,

filling the hole

by suffocating me

as I lie trapped at the bottom,

as I’m buried alive,

only to be torn out,

gasping, gasping,

as the medicine takes effect.

Then the hole

begins anew,

waiting patiently

to bury me again,

again, and again,

over and over,

until finally,

I can no longer take this life of mine,

so full of lies and deception,

and try to end it.

For the greater good,

I tell myself.

Yet I cannot do that either,

because despite this empty soul of mine,

there is still something holding me here.

Perhaps it’s a promise,

however empty,

of finally

being able to feel

any hint of an emotion,

a little spark of life

in this tragic dead soul of mine.

Perhaps it is a promise,

sent to me by the earth,

that Love truly waits

around the corner.

One can only hope,

dream, believe…

Of course,

when you posess

a soul that is also

devoid of those,

is it really worth the wait?

And if, perhaps,

I do somehow manage to find

Love,

how will I know the difference

between that and the facade,

when my soul is dead,

unfeeling, unloving?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love

Love does not come in one shape or size, as some people think.

Love can refer to may things;

the love one feels for a significant other is the most thought of one,

but there is also love between friends,

love between siblings,

love between those who have known each other their whole life.

You’ve probably suspected this, but yes, I do love you.

However, it is not the kind of love you think of it as.

No, it is not the sexual love.

You’re cute, yes, and have a nice body, I suppose,

but I don’t look at you in that way.

I simply love you because you’re my friend.

My best friend, I love you as I would love a brother.

I just want you to be happy, protected.

Yes, sometimes I show affection.

That’s just what I do.

Just like you, as a boy, show affection to your mother.

But I want you to know that the love I have for you

is unlike any other in this world.

It is stronger than any sexual love could be,

a love that only can be created

by the unique bond of friendship that we possess.

Our souls are connected, don’t you think?

Our fates intertwined.

Our bond can never be broken.

That is the kind of love I have for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain

Rain, rain, go away,

come again some other day…

I want to have a BBQ,

but now its canceled thanks to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still Remember You.

What’s it been, 9 years now?

Nine years since you vanished from the world.

Well, your soul vanished, at least,

while your body stayed.

I remember you, so clearly,

those days we would walk around

on the blacktop during recess

me, you, and him,

pretending we were pokemon, or digimon,

or some other cartoon characters,

or discussing things together,

like whether banjo or kazooie would win in a fight.

I remember when you stopped coming to school,

and when you did return,

you had to wear a hat because you had no more hair.

I remember you vividly in that hat.

It was made of jeans material,

and had a flower on the side.

A few years ago,

I saw a hat just like it at a store,

and tears came to my eyes.

How silly that must have looked to passerby,

a girl my age crying at a hat.

But I wasn’t thinking of that, or the hat;

I was thinking of you,

and how strong you must have been,

and how beautiful you were,

when you came into the classroom,

a nurse from the hospital following you,

just to visit your classmates.

I remember going to visit you at your house,

How all your dolls had been moved to the attic,

so you could live sterilized and not get any sicker.

I remember that there was no smoke that time;

your parents were trying hard to stop the habit

that had put you in this state.

I remember sitting on the couch with you,

and smiling as you taught me to play Pokemon Trozei.

We also played Pokemon Snap,

and perfectly photographed…

I can’t remember what it was, now.

But I know you were happy about it.

A few days later, I got the news.

You were not going to be returning to school, ever.

I wouldn’t be able to see you anymore,

except for when you were carried down the aisle in the casket.

We would not be able to play our imaginative games

out on the playground.

The trio was now a duo.

Despite efforts to replace you,

find a new third member,

we never have been able to.

No one can replace you,

no one is as perfect

as you were.

After all these years,

I still look back fondly,

and then try to determine

what life would be like

if you were still here.

Oh, how I wish you still were here.

You and him were the world to me.

And now, it is only him.

I live in constant fear

of losing him, or him losing me.

Whenever I do something,

I wonder if you

would have approved.

What you would be like,

what I would be like,

and what he would be like,

if you were alive today.

Would you be attending college with us?

What kind of career would interest you?

Someday, I will find you again,

and then maybe you’ll tell me.

Or, perhaps, you won’t.

Perhaps you don’t know yourself.

But what I do know

is that if I found a genie

in a magic lamp

and he gave me three wishes,

I would first

wish for you to be alive

and then

give the last two to you.

Because you, my dear friend,

are the epicenter

of all my fondest memories,

and no matter how much time passes,

I will always, always, remember you.

Oh, that ending is too cliche,

it doesn’t suit you…

I miss you so much!

I wanted to end this pleasantly,

but the emotion’s all welling up,

and, well, I just can’t help myself from crying!

I know you wouldn’t want to see me like this,

so I’ll hold back the tears, then,

and try to put a smile on my face

and remember all the times

we spent together,

all the times during recess,

the times at your house,

the times you came to my house,

like the time at my tea party birthday,

where you dressed up so fabulously in all the fancy stuff,

or at halloween,

when you were pikachu.

I still have those photos,

after all these years…

You were the perfect girl,

the most wonderful girl in the world,

and I know it sounds a bit cliche,

but why did a flower as beautiful as you

have to wilt away

before you had fully bloomed?

Rainbows

Fall semester, I wasn't doing too well.

Depression, anxiety, and other things were triggered by all the stress,

which in turn caused my grades to slip to the point of nearly flunking out.

However, Spring semester I pulled myself together,

worked really hard to get better grades and finish all my work,

and guess what- it paid off!

I ended up making Dean's List.

So, remember, no matter how bad things get,

you have to make it through the rain,

and then the rainbow will appear.

I think that's going to be my new mantra,

to get me through the tough times.

I like rainbows.

Wallflower

Today, I started reading "The Perka of Being a Wallfower," by Stephen Chobosky.
I'm only on page seventy-three so far, of two-hundred-thirteen,
but so far it is really amazing, and I absolutely love it.

The book is about a boy named Charlie who is quiet and shy,
and about his experiences in high school
He reminds me a lot like myself, actually.

I think I am a Wallflower, like Charlie is.
I'm quiet, and observe people, and always try to be nice to them.

The only thing different s that I never really experienced high school,
at least now how other people did.
I lived at home most the time,
didn't go to any parties until senior year,
and the only dances I went to were the few I photographed for yearbook.

I really regret not being more social and experiencing high school as I should have.
I should have tried dating, I should have made an effort to make friends.
Instead, I just got straight As and read books all the time.
It really was a pretty lonely high school life.

College, however, has changed that in me; I've become a bit more outgoing.
I've experienced the world of dating, made lots of friends,
and although I haven't gone to frat parties or anything,
I've had some great little parties with my friends.

The start of this change began senior year of high school,
when I began hanging out with my friend Maria.
I had sleepovers with her, Val, and Janina,
we talked about boys and girl things,
we had adventures together, and had some neat parties.

I really wish I had started doing those things,
finding people to hand out and have fun with,
a lot sooner, a whole lot sooner.

I envy Charlie because of this.
He may be a Wallflower, like me,
but he still is enjoying what high school has to offer,
in terms of social situations and friendships,
something I never took advantage of.

When I have kids, Wallflowers or not,
I'm going to make sure that they are social,
that they make friends, and enjoy high school.
I missed out on too much,
and I don't want them regretting their high school years,
as I do.

My Brother

My brother is a really amazing person.

He's really shy and quiet, so consequently doesn't have many friends,
but the ones he does have have stayed with him for quite a long time.

He's also amazing at building things.
Legos and puzzles are two of his favorite past times.

He really inspires me, too.
A few years ago, he injured his arm, which really impacted his running speed.
He needed reconstructive surgery, and he was told he probly wouldn't have much use of it anymore.
But he worked really hard, and now has almost full use of it!
And he's one of the fastest people on his track team,
a huge improvement from a few years ago.
It's really amazing.

And you know what?
If he can overcome his problems like that, then so can I.
I may have Bipolar, but if i work hard enough, like he did,
then I'll be able to make it just a tiny part of my life,
rather than a big part like it is now.

Thank you, Brandt!

Wondering

Have you ever wondered
why things are
the way they are?
Why the wind will blow,
and freeze you to the bone,
on the one day you wish
to go outside?
Or why the sun doesn't shine,
on that day you made plans
to go to the beach?
It is as if
some unprecedented force
has decided
that things can never
go as planned.
Tell me,
is there one time,
in your entire life,
where you imagined something
in your mind,
mapped out how it would go,
and it went
exactly as planned
to every teenie detail?
No, I imagine there isn't.

Steeve the Unicorn

Steeve the Unicorn:
A story written by me and my ten-year old cousin, Kathryn.


Once upon a time, there was a magical unicorn. His name was Steeve, and he loved ice cream. Fortunately for him, he lived in a world of candy, and his village was called "Ice Cream City". Steeve loved lice cream so much, that one day he decided to eat all the ice cream in the city! That was the beginning of his adventure.

Steeve began with his own house, which was made of chocolate ice cream. After this, he had to use the bathroom, but since he had eaten his own house, including bathroom, he had to borrow his neighbor's. He finished his business by by eating his neighbor's french-vanilla house, which was decorated with cookie dough bits.

Now, Steeve ate tons and tons of houses, which made him have to keep going to the bathroom; despite this, he he kept eating the houses, always thinking, "Well, one more can't hurt." But, of course, it can hurt, as he soon found out!

The next, and final, ice-cream house belonged to Mayor Hoofchild. It was a whole ice-cream cake house! Steeve munched through the chocolate, and then the vanilla, and finally into the mayor's bedroom.

"What in the flippin', whole hoofin' candy world is going on?!" the mayor proclaimed.

"I got hungry," admitted Steeve. Then, he fell into a deep, deep sleep.

Steeve awoke in the middle of a chilly, dark room. Then, a sudden light appeared. To Steeves's surprise. two funny-looking unicorns came out of it, and they were string right at him!

"Steeve, Steeeeeeeeeeeeve," they whinnied. "Come with us to candy mountain, where all of your troubles will melt awaaaaaaaaaay..."

"No." Steeve told them. "I heard what you two did to my cousin Charlie. No chance I'm coming anywhere with you weirdos. Besides, were'nt you two in jail?"

"Don't be silly, Steeeeeeve!" the one chided.

"Yeah, we don't need any more kidneys or horns!" The other added.

"Then what do you want from me?"

The two began to speak as one again. "To show you what you neeeeeeeeeed in your life!"

"And what would that be- actually, don't answer that. I'm a little frightened to find out."

"We don't know, Steeve. But the Great Green Leprechaun of Asia (G.G.L.o.A.) knows!"

"The... what?"

"Come with ussssss, Steeeeeeve, and we'll show you!"

Finally, Steeve gave in, and the two led him to the land of the G.G.L.o.A. Expecting a giant Leprechaun, Steeve was very surprised when he discovered that the G.G.L.o.A was only 3.6 inches tall!

"He is a Leprechaun, Steeve!" the two unicorns chided, matter-of-factly.

"Wait, how'd you know I was thinking that?" Steeve asked them.

"It's all in your mind, Steeeeeeeeeve, all in your mind...."

With that, Steeve woke up.

"Oh, good god, it was just a dream..." he sighed.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Steeeeeeeeeeve!" the two weird unicorns sung, as they stared at Steeve, one at the end of his bed, the other in it.

And just what happened after that, you ask? Well, no one knows exactly. The only thing definite was that, three days later, Steeve was found in the bed of an abandoned house, completely unharmed- of course, except, for the fact that his heart was missing and all his blood was drained.

THE END.

Why I DESPISE the Beach

So, many people really love the beach.
I, for one, absolutely DO NOT.
The beach is a menace.

Now, don't get me wrong- the beach can quite often be fun-
in the winter and off-season, in the middle of the night,
when no one's there but yourself and maybe a few friends.

Anytime else, and the beach is pure hell.

I'm always happy at first-
ooh, I'll get a day to relax and enjoy myself,
here I come beach!
So, I gather my stuff, get in the car...

And then it takes a turn for the worst.

Of course, I'm not the only person who thought of heading to the beach.
Tens of thousands of other people are heading for the same place I am.
Which brings traffic into the issue,
and don't even mention parking.
Seven blocks away, and there's finally an open space.
So much for relaxing; now I have to hike.

Plus, of course, it's not just the locals like me who are there.
We locals always forget about the tourists.
For every one local, there's about twenty tourists.
They swarm us, tumble over us with their fancy
beach blankets, beach shoes, beach everything,
all of which was, of course,
purchased at that overpriced tourist shop down the road.
Once I've been trampled by them, I finally get a chance to stake out my spot.

If I get there early enough, sometimes I get a nicer spot closer to the water.
If not, I get the junky spot full of trash behind the life guard.
Either way, it doesn't really matter.

As soon as I get my stuff down,
lay out my towel,
and lie down,
I am again tampled and surrounded by people.
People who have no concept of personal space.
People who think their rampage is more important
than my precious camera, my chair, and even me.
They trample my blanket, sometimes even my hand,
and do they say sorry?
Nope, not at all!
Why would they do that?

After a while of enduring that, I decide to go into the water.
I have fun for a bit, riding the waves...
avoiding people, trying to forget my problems...
trying to drown out the noise...
when I see a diaper floating next to me.
Well, that's it for the water!

So, I proceed back to my spot-
of which is almost covered by other people's towels and stuff by now-
and pick up my book to read it.
That's when the sun decides to play with me.
The wind, too.
The clouds are down, shielding the brightest sun rays. Cool.
The breeze is nice; maybe I'll enjoy this yet.
Hmmm... no, it won't let me do that, will it?
The sun pops out again!
Brightness floods my eyes,
giving me a temporary headache.
But they my eyes adjust,
and all is fine again.
Oh, wait- sun's gonna go behind a cloud again.
Eyes, time to readjust!
And it keeps that up.
The wind decides to play around, too.
It picks up, blowing my book to another page.
oh, crap- it's blowing my bookmark away!
I rush to retrieve it,
and by then the wind's completely blown my place away.
So, I gotta search for the page.

Once I'm sick of that game, it's time to relax again on my towel.
Yeah, right.
The people aren't running past me anymore,
since everyone's found their place,
but now they're all talking.
The guy behind me is screaming on his cell phone.
The girls ten people over are singing to some music- badly.
Some people over yonder are having a loud party,
complete with boom box.
Really big boom box with lots of music-blasting power.
And the seagulls are skwaking,
eagerly munching on the chips the stupid tourists throw at them,
despite the signs that say "no feeding the birds".
Plus, that couple in front of me is practically having sex,
not to mention their cigarette smoke is making me cough.

Okay, time to go home, finally.
Hm, Looks like I got a nice tan, at least.
Or not.
Once I get home,
I discovered the sun raped me again,
despite all the sunblock I thought I rubbed all over my skin.
But no, it targeted my stomach this time,
Which I failed to put enough sunblock on,
since the sun never burnt me there before.
Oh, but even the parts that aren't burned look ugly.
The sun tickled my skin, it seems,
because the tan is in obnoxious patterns,
of which I have no idea got there.
Okay, one's from my bracelet, but the rest?
Maybe marks of when those stupid tourists tossed their trash way,
irregardless of who was in its path- which was me.

So, now I'm lying on the couch,
tired, upset, irritated, annoyed, sick, burning,
holding an ice pack to my skin.
A nice, relaxing day?
Yeah right!

And no, rest of the USA,
NJ is not consisting of Guidos.
Those people who you idolize from that "Jersey Shore" show?
They're some of the tourists we hate.
Bennys, we call them.
Brooklyn, Elizabeth, Newark, New York.
People from those places,
Who flock down every summer to ruin our lives.

That is why I hate going to the beach,
even though I live a quick drive away.

Come out

Well,
I'd just like to say,
that you can come out of your shell.
Stop being so afraid.
I know you,
and can see,
that you have feelings there;
yet you hide it.
You think that I can't see?
That I can't feel
that something is wrong?
Just talk about it;
tell me, what's the matter;
I won't be biased,
or objective,
or critical.
You don't have to be a rock,
unfeeling,
uncaring,
and invincible,
because you're not.
Stop suffering alone;
it's not necessary.
All I want,
is to see you happy,
and I know,
that that won't happen,
if you keep your feelings pent up inside.
We're closer than any two people
could possibly be.
There is nothing you can hide from me;
trying to only makes it harder
not only for me,
but for you as well.
So just speak!
Say what's on your mind!
And I'm sure,
that you'll find,
no matter what it is,
that everything will be fine;
okay, maybe not,
but it will be much better,
I can assure you,
once you share it.
So, come on,
break open that shell
that you've hidden yourself in,
and, for once,
be human!