This is a low point of sorts. Here I am, sitting on the couch in a hoodie with a blanket draped over me. I got my vaccine booster yesterday, and I feel like crap. Movement takes too much effort. I can barely keep my eyes open. My head hurts, too. Last night I thought it hurt because I landed funny doing high jump at track practice. But nope, it's just the booster. I wanted to go practice at the track some more, but there's no way that'll be happening in my current state. I completed a walk/run but all I wanted to do was turn around. I forgot that I had my chest binder on, so I had trouble breathing after I ran. I ate a complete breakfast, but I'm still hungry. I don't think anyone is going to read a whole paragraph of a kid complaining, but thank you to the moderators for letting me write all this.
You gather your stuff, You cry in your heart, You seat yourself, Another tick on the chart,
A whirlpool of feelings, A tsunami of depression, A flood of anger, A tornado of confession,
The misery bottled up inside you, begging to bounce out, yet you refuse to convey your thronged emotions, but you subconsciously know that you are permitting your feelings to take the best of you. You don’t roister it, but you’re reluctant to let go and you wonder, why? The answer subtly approaches you as you turn to the mirror. You lack conviction, pondering in your head, ‘What if it’s true?’
Thank you, to the ones sacrificing their lives on the front lines. To the people working endless hours in hospitals during such wicked times. Thank you, mom and dad, for being my greatest supporters in all of my sport events. To my coaches that have taught me the importance and value of the sport that I love. Thank you to my sisters who always have my back: always in my corner when I need them. Thank you, Gram, for teaching me to take things slowly and appreciate what is in the moment. Thank you, teachers, for guiding me through school: teaching me about what happens in this great world. Thank you, mother nature, for providing clean air for me to breathe in, and endless beauty to admire. Thank you, friends, for always finding a way to make me laugh and reminding me to have fun.
If I could go anywhere in the world right now, I would choose the mountains of the Pacific Northwest. There seems something so calming about the dense shrubbery, along with deep lakes in the middle of gigantic mountains. Life can never actually stop, but I feel like it would slow down if I were able to be there hiking and spending time with nature. My ideal day would be spent hiking to a small cabin in the middle of the woods where there is no cell service and no electricity. I can imagine myself surrounded by all of my friends huddled around a fire while the sound of animals bustling around us and a slight drizzle of rain falls over our heads. I don’t need anything extravagant, just a simple week in the woods where the only worry is when I’ll get to stop and eat my granola bar, and when the next watering hole is. I find peace in the colors of nature and the sound of everything and simultaneously nothing while in the woods.
I'm sitting at this wobbly, white, fake-wood table in the library trying to finish my homework, but my mind just isn't in it. Not only is the wobbling getting on my nerves, but when I drank some water earlier, I spilled a few drops next to my computer. Don't freak out, the computer's fine, but for some reason watching the perimeter of the little puddle of water slowly shrink as it dries is way more interesting than finishing my science.
There's a piece of fuzz in the puddle that is so tiny, but somehow makes this dramatic tent pole effect. Also, since I started writing this, the puddle has shrunk like half the size.
I met him and we matched. We talked and it made sense. When we explored I felt at home. He was my home and I think I was his. We climbed trees, we sat on his roof, we wandered in his orchard, we talked about future plans. College, Baltimore, bakeries, sheep farms in Ireland. I told him what I’d never told anyone. I told him what I’d never told myself. He introduced me to ‘40s music. Fly me to the moon / Let me play among the stars / Let me see what spring is like on / A-Jupiter and Mars. Once upon a time, for a brief spring and summer, we would’ve gone to the moon together. It was us against the world. It would always be just us against the world. Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore. We were close and my heart sang. But then we were far, and my heart sunk. When he drifted. When he stopped responding, when he only called me when he was drunk, when he never wanted to see me in person. So, eventually the song had to end. We still match.
At this point, I don’t even know why I still care Why do I care when you don’t even the least bit? Why do I still care when you don’t care about me Was what we had nothing? I guess it was It wasn’t for me though I ask myself What does she have that I don’t? Maybe everything Maybe nothing It seems like she has everything And I’m just the pesky fly flying around your head that won’t go away Yup that’s me the buzzing fly You don’t even swat Instead, I just keep flying Hoping you’ll notice me but you too caught up in your own stuff that I’m nothing Like I wasn’t ever anything Nothing Was that all I was? Nothing? Was I just someone to swat at but not really care Because nobody cares about the fly Because you can’t catch it Can’t catch me Won’t catch me I guess that's all I was The tiny fly flying around your head
Sometimes, people can be jerks. As I mind my own buisness, there always has to be that one kid who walks up to me and insults me in hopes of getting my attention. Unfortunately for him, I don't really pay attention. But just because I dont respond, it aggrivates them, making them do it even more frequently. I have countless experiences with these kids, who just don't know when to stop. Bullying, using foul langauge, making fun of others, etc. These are all common traits in all these kids. But I also thank them for one reason. They taught me the power of stupid people, and the power of words. They taught me how to ignore, and how to stand up for myself. Its experiences like these that help you cope and adapt to the corrupt age of today. So If you even encounter idiots like I do, don't overreact, and don't freak out. Be calm, and let them dig their own grave.
Hey I just joined and I dont have a clue what to write. If you have any ideas could you tell me. If you have anything I could draw like idea's of things to draw or somthing. I hpoe people actually see this post if not I will have no idea what to write about. I hope nobody from my school or anybody I know see this I dont want any body to see this because I suck at writing.
It has come to my attention that I do not remember what it is to be happy.
What a silly, useless little excuse for a word, happy. What even is it? We all use it every day. It should be obvious, apparent. Yet, what does it really mean? Does anyone truly know what it means to be happy? I wish for it. I long for it with everything I am, and yet, can you search for, let alone possess something that fickle, that strange and unknown?
How to be happy.
That is the question. Is happiness found, or is it made? You can't buy it, sell it, switch it out, or give it away. So in my determination to make sense of something I do not think I will ever truly understand, I took my need for happiness, with how it will hopefully look for me, and condensed it into one sentence.
I shall live exceptionally, or I shall live not at all.
In other words, there are six things I need to be happy.
I'm so tired. So tired of this all. This isn't the formatt I usually write in. But I'm too tired to care. Because really, there doesn't seem to be any point to keep trying. It's raining in February right now, anything is possible. I am told over and over we aren't trying to stop you from doing anything, but oh, you really are. You just don't know how to let me go, do you? I'm not a child anymore. You told me in your mind, I am still 10. That in your mind, my little sister is still 7. I'm about to turn 16. She's 12.
I think that everybody already has a sixth sense that they are born with. The sixth sense isn’t something amazing like being very strong or being able to fly. I think our sixth sense is our connection to the Universe and the energy around us. Though not everybody is connected to this sixth sense, it is always there with us. Our connection to the Universe and energy can come in many shapes or forms. Have you ever been near someone who has scraped their knee or had a bad headache? And you have felt their pain? That is one part of the sixth sense. Having the ability to absorb energy and emotions around you. Everybody can do this, but some people are more sensitive to it than others.
I apoligize in advance if this rant is triggering to anyone. What I saw deeply affected me and I know it affects others.
I just saw a picture of a public lynching. One man's face stared into the camera because he wanted them to know. He pointed towards the tree and in the picture he stares at me. He stares at me because he wants me to know. I feel like crying. I'm glad I've made him happy. I'm glad that I fulfilled his divine destiny. To make a little girl cry. That man haunts me. And I can hate him for it. That man will follow me into my nightmares. That man will follow me into my dreams.
I would like to start off by saying, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT! I didn’t ask you for fashion advice, so don’t bash my clothes. I didn’t ask you if I was right, so don’t tell me what I did wrong. I definitely didn’t ask for your judgemental eyes to watch me and your loose lips to gossip about me. Halls have ears. Hundreds of ears. They also have gaping mouths with literally no filter. Keep that in mind the next time you talk trash.
So hard to breath when they just won’t come out. But the more it hurts the more it needs to be said The words that nobody wants to hear But at the same time, dying for them to come out. They mean so so much It could knock somebody right off their feet It could sound so sweet Or maybe it’s the opposite? Saying “I love you” Could be the beginning or the end of a relationship But when the person can’t be read like a book All you can do is read between the lines But when you miss the key hints that they don’t really like you it’s hard to see. That this love Isn’t real or in fact was never truly there and will never be there
i am done with this i am done with screaming and having no one hear me.
we are running out of time, if not out of time already.
what do i need to say to make you understand that our planet is dying and we are doing nothing about it? what do i need to say to make you understand that the clock is running out and we aren't trying to create more time? what do i need to say to make you fucking understand?
i am just a kid i can only do so much and i'm doing what i can but i can only hold so much of the burden that the world now shares because it's everyone's fault and don't you dare deny it. you have the power you have the right you represent thousands of kids across the US like me who want change to happen who are using every last drop of artistic talent to get our points across but our pleas fall on deaf ears.
you watch me bathe in my own shameless self destruction, wilted guilt and tiresome apologies. “if only the blade you pierced me with would have been sharper” i say. “then i could be dead.” i choke out my mascara-run tears, and pout my lips. i tug on the hem of your dress and tell you how you ruined my life. you decide you don’t want children because of my endless temper tantrums.
when in fact, it was my brittle ego that fucked us up. my dramatic declarations. my pity-seeking soliloquies that i preach to you.