Pleeeeeease?

It's kinda awkward
to go swimming
and see someone
who you once had a thing with
and you're both half-naked
and they ask
for a hug.

Screenshot?

Blackmail seems to work exceedingly well.
I don't know why I never thought of it before.

The Who?

I wanna know who it was that made the law that seperates the ages of 15 and 16 by a landslide.
I don't see why someone who's 16 can, oh, say drive. When they have a friend off to the side, a few months younger, still 15, but can't drive.
Nope. That friend's stuck inside the house, staring out the window
wishing they could get themselves from point A to point B without seeming like a pathetic puppy dog with no home, begging for something.

There's also the topic of working. Of being considered physically able to work
which apparently doesn't include anyone under the age of 16.
So once again, there are 2 friends, still at the same point in life, and one can drive, and have a job which secures a tiny amount of income
while the other is sitting at home, not only pathetically staring out the window,
but also unbareably broke because they're not as 'able' to work as their friend, who is merely months older than they are.

So you're stuck with these 2 teenage kids,
one who has everything
and the other who has a nice window to sit at all summer.
Man.. I can't decide which one sounds more alluring...

allysmusic14

There are some people in the world who are just SO talented
And it's not even fair. Well, for everyone else
Because they're amazing singers, and guitarist
and you look up to them to the utmost amount
and all you can do is hope one day you'll be as amazing as they are,
even if that's incredibly far-fetched.

Maybe, this one you'll recognize

I like to think about my future. The perfect future. The one that contains
a big house on a lake
with a walk-around porch
and a white-picket fence
and numerous animals running amuck
and kids in diapers making the all-famous mud pies.

And in the background, just barely visible
is a couple sitting together
drinking orange juice
and sharing a Kit-kat.
And one looks a lot like me
and the other looks a lot like you.

And it makes me smile.. ya know
just a tiny bit.

Friend...?

I hate how often I grow apart from people.
It's not so much the process of growing apart
but more waking up one morning.. and thinking
'Man... I haven't talked to so-and-so in forever!'
And you constantly put off talking to them, because of stupid things
like just forgetting.. or other people taking up your time.. or
anything.
And you finally see them one day, and you decide to say hey, and
start up a good conversation or something..
Except, they don't quite remember you
and in all honesty..
you don't quite remember them either.

Good job!

I think I underestimate myself a little too often.
I just kinda, expect a mess-up, so I don't let myself down.
And then.. well, I don't mess up.
Hell, let's be so bold as to say I do something spectacular.
Well then, I'm kind of at a loss for words.
Because I don't really know what the situation calls for.
Is it acceptable to jump up and down for joy here?
Should I go around and talk about for a bit before shutting up?
Or should I just shrug it off like it's nothing?

Well.. I usually just smile at myself.
Not for a long period of time, but I wait about a half hour after it happens, just looking back.
Because.. I'm proud. Proud of myself.
And it's quite a nice feeling.

Lazy

It's pretty pathetic
when you're too lazy
to update a dang blog.

Sophmore

Freedom is being allowed to do whatever you want,
whenever you want,
however you want,
simply because you want.
And although it'd be a lie to say I've truly felt this proclaimed freedom,
this seems pretty damn close.

CIWWAF

I could never truly apply the phrase "practice makes perfect" to my life.
I've found that if I try really hard on something, and fill my mind completely with one goal of one accomplishment, I can't succeed.
I'm the type of person who's mediocre at pretty much everything. And the more I stick with something, the more average at it I become.
But if I try wicked hard at something, and then take a break from it, even just a break of a few ideas, I return to it rejuvenated and calm, and then. There's just no stopping.

It's only you

"And I don't know how it gets better than this
You take my hand and drag me head first.
Fearless."

Shaca laca

Maybe it's a personal thing, or maybe it's something everyone does
but i always. always. always.
over dramatize everything.
I make things out to be absolutely terrible, mostly out of first instinct,
until I really get a chance to look at the situation
and see how lucky I am.
Because no, things have never gone the way that I imagine,
but they still seem to go well
maybe even better.
And I could never argue with things going better than expected.

Flip off.

I'm beginning to wonder when all the light turned to darkness.
And when you try and tell me it's only as dark as I seem to make it,
I'm thinking in my head,
"Act.............toalee."

Later gator

It's the feeling of rejection that always makes my stomach currdle.
Because it's the thought of not being good enough, and that someone else is better.
It's like being a cookie in the cookie jar,
and you were part of the very first batch,
the testing batch.
So you're left in the jar,
and with each hand that dips its way in,
you're hoping to get chosen.
But you never are.
Because there's always another cookie,
one that wasn't part of the testing batch,
that's just more appealing to the eye,
than the nasty first try.

I miss

I miss the way you use to be.

When you were young and lively and you took pictures of me simply because you loved me.
And I would come over, and we would teach the dog tricks.
And you would walk me around your house, and tell me about all the boring flowers I couldn't care less about.
And you would come to my games, pretending like you knew what was going on, when we all knew you didn't.
And you told me about all these people, that I knew I'd never meet.
And I would spend the night as often as I could, because it made you happy.
And you scavenged around the house for a soft blanket to stop my crying.

But that was then.. and this is now.
And that was hello.. and this is goodbye.

I'm slowly dying

With each passing day
I'm slowly
dying.
My mind is weakening
and so is my
heart.
And one day
they're both just going to
stop.

Hm..

Sometimes I wonder how you can determine whether you're too 'good' for something to happen to you.
Like, when someone says "How could this have happened to me!?"
My question is
Why shouldn't it have happened to you?
Why not?

Possession is 9/10 of the Law

The one who posses the courage
to stand up against all odds
is the one who gets the glory.
The one who posses the strength
to ward off all monsters and beasts
is the one who gets their face plastered on every wall.
The one who posses the sense
to know wrong from right
is the one who survives through any occurrence.
The one who posses the power
to change the decision of a man
is the one who can always get his way.
The one who posses no significantly great quality at all
to use against evil or for the better of their being
is the one who gives the glory,
plasters the walls,
praises the survivor,
gives into the power,
and gets nothing in return.

Nothing

Just a little revision or add-on from something done by a good friend.

She looked out at the misty lake in silence
and I asked her
"what’s wrong"
and she said
"nothing"
and went back to her quiet.
She looked out at the misty lake in tears
and I asked her
"what's wrong"
and she said
"nothing"
and went back to her crying.
She looked out at the misty lake in rage
and I asked her
"what's wrong"
and she said
"nothing"
and went back to her anger.
She looked out at the misty lake in terror
and I asked her
"what's wrong"
and she said
"nothing"
and went back to her fear.
She looked out at the misty lake in confusion
and I asked her
"what's wrong"
and she said
"nothing"
and went back to her perplexion.
She looked out at the misty lake in bliss
and I asked her
"what's good"
and she said
"everything"
and went back to her joy.

Roasted milk..?

If you are ever offered leche asada,
kindly decline it.
Your stomach will thank me.

Dumbass

I think sometimes I intentionally, purposely make a fool of myself. I’m guessing you’re thinking that’s crazy? Well, it’s not.

You expect, well, no, not expect. You hope for a good turnout. For a good answer, or reply, or whatever. So you put all else aside. You forget about that little nagging voice telling you you’re being stupid, and you say it anyway. Because you’re hoping for the best, and you’re thinking you’re in the perfect timing.

Until you say something, and you realize your mouth shouldn’t have talked. Because the response is delayed, and it’s a kind response as any you’ll ever get, but that’s all it is. Kind. It’s not something to make you leap in the air, it’s not something to make you sleep easier that night, and it’s surely not something to make you glad that you said anything in the first place.

Because it’s only kind. Like a stranger kindly saying to the hobo “No, I don’t have any extra money.” When in fact, he has a crisp 20 in his back right pocket.

Really?

I think we all use the term of 'friend' a little too loosely.
Ok, make that a lot too loosely.

For whatever reason, we always just consider nearly everyone our friend.
The kid who sits in the back of the class you've never talked to? Oh of course, he's your friend.
That one chick who you always stand behind in the lunch line? Besties.
The asshole who makes fun of you constantly? Been tight since way back in the day.
And those kids who leave you after helping them, to walk your own ass home, at 10:00 at night, in a somewhat sketch area? Well duh. Can't live without 'em...