what makes a human
a human?
its the way their feet move when they are
first taught to dance.
its in their eyes when they first discover
the feeling of dirt in their hands.
Its the startled movement in the shoulders
when they first hear the piano keys strike.
its in the way their heart beats
as they lean over the stairway's railing.
its in the movement of the legs
when they hop on their first bike.
Its the admiration in their bodies
as they watch another hammer with nailing.
Its down within the deep recesses of the lungs
when they huff and puff while playing tag.
Its the tearing apart feeling in the stomach
when betrayal burns like acid in the lining.
Its in the ears that are plagued
with "slut" and "ass" and "fag".
Its in the relationships that are held,
with trust, honor, and rings binding.
How are we human? We let them starve in the streets.
How are we human? We build and we destroy.
How are we human? We let ourselves trust.
How are we human? We start wars; promises we can't keep.
How are we human?
I guess we are.
Human, i mean.
just not humanists.
So celebrate the light side of Human nature
and the rest will fall within it.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
To Know How I Feel
To know how I feel
You would have to dig inside my brain, and trust
Me, it’s not the cleanest place to be
Along with the fractured images of nothings and
Nobodies
And the quietness of the crunching leaves
Lies soiled dreams and empty thoughts
Made up glances and love delusions lean.
The loss
Of a smile.
The gain
Of a frown.
The silent music in my life that blares so loud
It fills up my lungs and my vessels and screams salvation;
Haunts my sleep with chuckling ghosts
With the taste of bitter victory on my tongue;
And sweet, sweet pollen dust
Coating walls of images that come to my mind whenever I regret
Or think or remember.
I remember.
I always will.
You won’t be able to use a shovel.
You won’t be able to use a rake.
It’s silent within.
It screams within.
Ultimately, it will kill me within.
Ultimately, it will resurrect me within.
You would have to dig inside my brain, and trust
Me, it’s not the cleanest place to be
Along with the fractured images of nothings and
Nobodies
And the quietness of the crunching leaves
Lies soiled dreams and empty thoughts
Made up glances and love delusions lean.
The loss
Of a smile.
The gain
Of a frown.
The silent music in my life that blares so loud
It fills up my lungs and my vessels and screams salvation;
Haunts my sleep with chuckling ghosts
With the taste of bitter victory on my tongue;
And sweet, sweet pollen dust
Coating walls of images that come to my mind whenever I regret
Or think or remember.
I remember.
I always will.
You won’t be able to use a shovel.
You won’t be able to use a rake.
It’s silent within.
It screams within.
Ultimately, it will kill me within.
Ultimately, it will resurrect me within.
Grey's Anatomy Makes Me Think Too Hard
okay, for all those who have seen gray's anatomy knows recently about Owen, Christina's love intrest who suffers from pos tramatic stress disorder.
not only do i love his character, i love that actor.
he is amazing.
i think i will hunt down and date a red head in college.
not only do i love his character, i love that actor.
he is amazing.
i think i will hunt down and date a red head in college.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
tattoo
Im eighteen years old. I got myself a tattoo. It was, felt, and is amazing. I see why its addicting!!!! Im just happy im this age finally... It gives a sense of freedom!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Fairy Tale
Warmth.
There once was this woman who was cleaning her attic.
As she complained to herself about the dust, her allergies were acting up in responce, and she was frusterated. when she was frusterated, she would clean. so she found herself up in the attic, cleaning away the cobwebs and dust from boxes that were long closed. she sneezed, closing her eyes, and her hand fell on a box, and her fingers were instantly gritty. Damn, she thought, pulling her hand away slowly, and opened her eyes. it was a perfectly normal looking box, but her heart flickered suddenly as she realised she was gazing upon the box that her mother had stored up here so long ago.
the woman opened the box with careful fingers, fingers that were primed for wiping baby tears and checking the temperature of soup on a cold day. she smiled as she looked upon the love letters that her father had drawn out for her mother, sealed with tears, kisses and love. the faint scent of her mother's perfume swirled lazily up at her. the smile grew larger and more melancolic as she plunged her hands in, feeling the crisp and thin papers. underneath these, she found ribbions that she recoginised from her young days, still clinging to a strand of soft brown hair. she sighed and dug deeper.
her hand brushed against something soft and warm. she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it out gingerly. it was a ball of light green yarn. she smiled at it, looking it over. her heart suddenly was no longer melancoly from the feeling of having to say goodbye to her parents. she was so fasinated by the ball of yarn she didnt even question where it had come from. she merely stood up, grabbed her cleaning surprizes and descended the latter.
She placed it on the kitchen counter, and started to boil the pasta, occasionally turning to pause and stare at the light green ball of yarn.
at exactly five, her daughter walked in the house, forgetting to take off her shoes as always and clunking through the house to get to her room. she stopped short at the sight of the yarn.
"Why is there a random ball of yarn on the table?"
her mother exsplained she had found it in the attic.
"Looks like you can knit a really good blanket out of it," her daughter said.
the mother smiled and told her to take it. her daughter grinned and grabbed it eagerly, not noticing how her mother winced. surely a ball of yarn as prestty as that one should have been handled gingery.
The daughter started the blanket that night, sitting in front of the Tv, counting stiches and thinking pensivly about what accesories she should get the next day at the mall with her friends.
the yarn was smooth on her fingers, and soon she was sleepy. She put the yarn aside and went up to her room, and checked her email for the last time. a message told her that the cute guy from chemistry class had asked her friend about her. she smiled.
the daughter fell asleep with the cute guy from chemistryclass's smile in her mind's eye. For some reason, she felt extremly content and fell asleep immedieatly.
The rest of the school year raced though spring and the blanket was finished before the year ended. the daughter enjoyed stretching out on it in the grass at the park with her friends, and blew dandilion seeds around. her friends has larged smiles also as they rolled around on the blanket that warmed their stomachs. The cute guy from chemisty class was around a lot now, making friends with the group that were all going to college together.
Graduation came, and the mother watched her daughter walk across the stage and recieve her dipolma. after hugging her, realising her heart was breaking, she escaped for a second saying she had to use the bathroom, and made her way to the car to gather herself together. she wiped her eyes on the soft light green blanket, and her tearing heart seemed to seal.
Two months later, the daughter moved into her dorm room. as her father moved boxes in, he felt void being placed in his heart. he reached into the box he was carrying and pulled out the light green blanket, and spread it out on her already made bed. he prayed she would find a new home here. The cute guy from high school chemistry class popped his head in, and the father told him that his daughter was out getting boxes from the car.
The cute guy from high school chem class started to be around a lot more. he leaned over and kissed the daughter one day as they sat on the light green blanket as they sat studying in a field.
Love made the days brighter for the daughter, and she would call home grinning and gushing about the day she had, how cute she was, how much she missed them, and how much she needed a home cooked meal. the days seemed to grow shorter and shorter, as time doesnt wait for love to fully bloom through the days,and days can never seem long enough. with the relationship came the fair share of fights, kisses, butterflies, flowers and good times.
the heat started kicking on in the dorms, and the daughter got a new comfertor and folded up the light green blanket. she put in on top of her closet shelf. and the relationship started going stale.
she would complain, he would ignore her. she would beg him to come home with him, he would declare he was going to his house that weekend. he would snap, she wouldnt talk to him for weeks. her tears flowed, and he seriously consitered breaking it off as he sat next to her, feeling only annoyance.
she called home, and when asked about him by her mother, she made some stupid excuse that he was busy with school work. her mother senced the sadness in her voice, and couldnt help but know that love doesnt end well most of the time.
He didnt call for a week. She hardly left her room. in a rage she through her comforter on the ground. in a depression she took her light green blanket off her closet shelf and wrapped herself in it.
her mother sat at home, thinking of her dead parents who were together for sixty years, fighting, bickering, but ultimatly, loving. though times were tough, the couple never gave up. they grew with eachother, got married, raised children, and grew old together. when she died, he followed three weeks later because he couldnt bare to live without her. if she could make it with her husband, why wasnt there a chance for her daughter?
The days went byslower and slower, and she felt him slipping away. with him, she slipped away inside of herself. she wrapped herself in the light green blanket and closed her eyes, praying for the pain to be taken away. it was cold, different, and alien to her soul. she couldnt bare it, she couldnt. please make it go away. please-
a knock on the door. she sat up slowly, looking at the door with surprize as she heard her name.
"please open the door."
she walked open and opened the door. he saw her standing there with sad eyes, wrapped up tightly in the light green blanket.
"i miss you." he told her quietly. she looked up into his eyes, searching to make sure it was the truth. it was.
the next time she called her mother, the smile was back.
The blanket went on to live in a new house, on a new bed that the daughter and her new husband shared. soon, the blanket even wrapped nicly around a new baby boy.
it goes to show you, when something passed on is taken to heart, used, and appreciated, that something can stay around forever. the blanket that was tainted with love went on to taint the little house, and taint the lives of the family forever.
There once was this woman who was cleaning her attic.
As she complained to herself about the dust, her allergies were acting up in responce, and she was frusterated. when she was frusterated, she would clean. so she found herself up in the attic, cleaning away the cobwebs and dust from boxes that were long closed. she sneezed, closing her eyes, and her hand fell on a box, and her fingers were instantly gritty. Damn, she thought, pulling her hand away slowly, and opened her eyes. it was a perfectly normal looking box, but her heart flickered suddenly as she realised she was gazing upon the box that her mother had stored up here so long ago.
the woman opened the box with careful fingers, fingers that were primed for wiping baby tears and checking the temperature of soup on a cold day. she smiled as she looked upon the love letters that her father had drawn out for her mother, sealed with tears, kisses and love. the faint scent of her mother's perfume swirled lazily up at her. the smile grew larger and more melancolic as she plunged her hands in, feeling the crisp and thin papers. underneath these, she found ribbions that she recoginised from her young days, still clinging to a strand of soft brown hair. she sighed and dug deeper.
her hand brushed against something soft and warm. she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it out gingerly. it was a ball of light green yarn. she smiled at it, looking it over. her heart suddenly was no longer melancoly from the feeling of having to say goodbye to her parents. she was so fasinated by the ball of yarn she didnt even question where it had come from. she merely stood up, grabbed her cleaning surprizes and descended the latter.
She placed it on the kitchen counter, and started to boil the pasta, occasionally turning to pause and stare at the light green ball of yarn.
at exactly five, her daughter walked in the house, forgetting to take off her shoes as always and clunking through the house to get to her room. she stopped short at the sight of the yarn.
"Why is there a random ball of yarn on the table?"
her mother exsplained she had found it in the attic.
"Looks like you can knit a really good blanket out of it," her daughter said.
the mother smiled and told her to take it. her daughter grinned and grabbed it eagerly, not noticing how her mother winced. surely a ball of yarn as prestty as that one should have been handled gingery.
The daughter started the blanket that night, sitting in front of the Tv, counting stiches and thinking pensivly about what accesories she should get the next day at the mall with her friends.
the yarn was smooth on her fingers, and soon she was sleepy. She put the yarn aside and went up to her room, and checked her email for the last time. a message told her that the cute guy from chemistry class had asked her friend about her. she smiled.
the daughter fell asleep with the cute guy from chemistryclass's smile in her mind's eye. For some reason, she felt extremly content and fell asleep immedieatly.
The rest of the school year raced though spring and the blanket was finished before the year ended. the daughter enjoyed stretching out on it in the grass at the park with her friends, and blew dandilion seeds around. her friends has larged smiles also as they rolled around on the blanket that warmed their stomachs. The cute guy from chemisty class was around a lot now, making friends with the group that were all going to college together.
Graduation came, and the mother watched her daughter walk across the stage and recieve her dipolma. after hugging her, realising her heart was breaking, she escaped for a second saying she had to use the bathroom, and made her way to the car to gather herself together. she wiped her eyes on the soft light green blanket, and her tearing heart seemed to seal.
Two months later, the daughter moved into her dorm room. as her father moved boxes in, he felt void being placed in his heart. he reached into the box he was carrying and pulled out the light green blanket, and spread it out on her already made bed. he prayed she would find a new home here. The cute guy from high school chemistry class popped his head in, and the father told him that his daughter was out getting boxes from the car.
The cute guy from high school chem class started to be around a lot more. he leaned over and kissed the daughter one day as they sat on the light green blanket as they sat studying in a field.
Love made the days brighter for the daughter, and she would call home grinning and gushing about the day she had, how cute she was, how much she missed them, and how much she needed a home cooked meal. the days seemed to grow shorter and shorter, as time doesnt wait for love to fully bloom through the days,and days can never seem long enough. with the relationship came the fair share of fights, kisses, butterflies, flowers and good times.
the heat started kicking on in the dorms, and the daughter got a new comfertor and folded up the light green blanket. she put in on top of her closet shelf. and the relationship started going stale.
she would complain, he would ignore her. she would beg him to come home with him, he would declare he was going to his house that weekend. he would snap, she wouldnt talk to him for weeks. her tears flowed, and he seriously consitered breaking it off as he sat next to her, feeling only annoyance.
she called home, and when asked about him by her mother, she made some stupid excuse that he was busy with school work. her mother senced the sadness in her voice, and couldnt help but know that love doesnt end well most of the time.
He didnt call for a week. She hardly left her room. in a rage she through her comforter on the ground. in a depression she took her light green blanket off her closet shelf and wrapped herself in it.
her mother sat at home, thinking of her dead parents who were together for sixty years, fighting, bickering, but ultimatly, loving. though times were tough, the couple never gave up. they grew with eachother, got married, raised children, and grew old together. when she died, he followed three weeks later because he couldnt bare to live without her. if she could make it with her husband, why wasnt there a chance for her daughter?
The days went byslower and slower, and she felt him slipping away. with him, she slipped away inside of herself. she wrapped herself in the light green blanket and closed her eyes, praying for the pain to be taken away. it was cold, different, and alien to her soul. she couldnt bare it, she couldnt. please make it go away. please-
a knock on the door. she sat up slowly, looking at the door with surprize as she heard her name.
"please open the door."
she walked open and opened the door. he saw her standing there with sad eyes, wrapped up tightly in the light green blanket.
"i miss you." he told her quietly. she looked up into his eyes, searching to make sure it was the truth. it was.
the next time she called her mother, the smile was back.
The blanket went on to live in a new house, on a new bed that the daughter and her new husband shared. soon, the blanket even wrapped nicly around a new baby boy.
it goes to show you, when something passed on is taken to heart, used, and appreciated, that something can stay around forever. the blanket that was tainted with love went on to taint the little house, and taint the lives of the family forever.
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