409968000 seconds seems like a lot of time.

Or 6832800 minutes.

113880 hours.

4745 days.

13 years.

That was all she had.

Walking, talking, breathing.

Because the pressure of being perfect was too great.

Because she was told once too many times that she wasn’t good enough.
Suicide if real.

Suicide is real, and we need to stop it.

Now.

People are unique, and we need to accept that.

Now.

Because if we don’t,

all we are left with are broken hearts.

I used to play with that girl.

We had sleepovers,

we went to writing workshops together.

Now all that is gone.

All that is gone,

because she tried to meet the standards

of society.

So now I raise my voice.

I raise my voice, because I care.

I cared about that girl.

Her fiery orange hair was a puff of curls. She wore glasses too big for her face and walked quickly in the crisp autumn day. Her navy blue uniform with a faded emblem had a well-loved look, and she carried a school bag filled with books. She smiled a little smile and hummed a little tune. On her way, she met an old man. He stopped her and said “Thank you for your smile.” Both continued on their way, but the girl was stopped again by a tired looking woman who said, “How do you ever keep a smile so bright?” The girl replied, “If you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams, and you will always look lovely*”. So the woman went on with a laugh and a grin, knowing that life would be better if she stuck up her chin. Upon first glance, she was an ordinary girl walking in an ordinary town on an ordinary day. But this was no ordinary girl. She was beautiful, but in a different sort of way.
*Quote from Roald Dahl

Happiness is the faded memory
of tiny cross country skis
next to your father’s tall ones.
Of climbing the snowy hill
sideways, or else you will fall back down.
Happiness is the sight of a frozen pond
next to an open field.
The swish-swish of skis
penetrating the still, quiet air.
Happiness is a beautiful old house,
nestled in the evergreen trees,
sagging with the weight
of the sparkling snow.
This was a time of an innocent mind
not yet troubled with the weight of the world.

 

It had been a long time, but now he was here. I stared at him with what must have been a peculiar look on my face. Thoughts swirled through my head, my brain, a wild symphony bursting with ¨terrifying crescendos¨.I felt happy, happier than I had ever felt before, my happiness seemed to pick me up and fly. And through my happiness, I couldn't help but remember the sad-happy memories of before, practicing my violin so enthusiastically late at night, secretly admiring his handsome dimpled smile, and feeling so envious of his talent. He was finally here, and it seemed as though everything would be fine. I had always dreamed of this day, for years I would lie awake, dreaming up happy memories to hold on to, entirely from my imagination. So I smiled, and went to sleep.

 

So many students
rush to school each morning 
Everything's hurried 
There's so much built up fury
because there's no time to think
or to even blink.
So much pressure 
It causes depression 
It causes anxiety 
It causes stress
the teachers say they care
But what do they do?
They give us more homework, 
that's what.
So much hate
But still they wonder
How they can cure depression
How they can lower anxiety 
How they can reduce stress
And they don't realize 
That with that simple act of kindness 
Is the solution.

“This is your last chance.”
My teacher looked me in the eye, a bright twinkle in them.
I couldn't move, couldn't breath.
I was paralyzed from nervousness.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
My teacher squeezed my shoulder, saying good luck.
I tried to control my shaking, and walked onstage.
A panel of judges were in front, hundreds of people behind them.
Every eye was intently following me. 
The lights were nearly blinding, 
the judges had some softer light shining upon them.
The audience was just a sea of dark.
One mistake, one misplayed note, I would lose everything.
I mustered up every ounce of courage in my body,
 and lifted my violin.
Bow on the string, I played the first note.
It was low, resonating around the grand hall.
I kept playing, remembering the endless nights of practice,
the frustration, the tiresome work.

“Hi Sophia” 

“Totally”

“Yeah”

“About what?”

“You mean the philharmonia?”

“So what's so secret about it?”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I see. You are pretty bad at keeping secrets.”

“Ok”




 

The rain is pouring down,
the clouds intended to drown,
the cars go splashing by,
I as go dashing along.
I wish the sky would clear,
so that I could give a cheer,
and to my home I near,
the sky is raining tears.
People rush to their destinations,
such as the bus station,
I see a cute dalmatian,
the rain is causing frustration.
The worms are on the sidewalk,
I only have one more block,
of chalk stained sidewalk
till I reach my house,
In front of me is a little mouse,
I bet it would like a skittle,
or a tittle of bread.
I give the mouse a nut,
he gives it a putt,
I guess mice don't like nuts

 

The world, it's trapped in an atmosphere of pollution. Ice caps are melting, the poor polar bears are finding themselves in danger, all because of the humans and their stupidity. Don't be one of those people, make a change. It isn't too late to turn things around… or is it? (Shrug) Might as well try. It's the human’s fault that the earth is dying, it's the humans fault to fix things. We have put the world at risk, so that we could listen to our music on the radio, so that we could so easily get food, and wear our expensive clothes, and be lazy. We turn on a light with the flick of a switch, insensitive to the fact that with each foot on the gas, with each piece of plastic we throw away, with each flick of a switch, the world we live in gets further and further away from the healthy, clean, happy planet we want.

From up in my tree, I can see everything, hear everything, think everything, write everything. I can escape from the reality of life. Waiting for me at the bottom is my backpack with all my homework. I can let the breeze take away my fears my thoughts, just sit and live in the moment. I will always remember this moment. But… it's not true. I can see everything,  hear everything, think everything, write everything, those I can do. But I can't escape the reality of life, because its reality. It's chilly because the sun has set. I don't want to think about boring things right now, but I can't help thinking about my homework, waiting for me in my backpack. So when I climb down this tree, I probably won't remember this moment, and I will do my homework in boredom. And I most certainly won't sit and live in the moment. I will stand and live in the moment.