Self Indulgence

Crazy
Lunatic
Mentally impaired
Call it what you will-
But I will call it
Healthy
I don't really know if it's healthy or not
But I do it quite frequently

Have you ever laid,
Just to simply be
With no purpose
No intentions
Just to ponder on who you are
"To ponder on life"
If you haven't,
You should
It's quite scary,
But necessary
I often times shove some head phones in my gullible ears
And let the music tangle and strangle
My every nerve
To the point that I no longer have control over my body
The thoughts that dance through my mind are concerning
But I would rather know them
Than be unaware of what sits emptily in the left side of my head
And once it starts going,
I can't make it stop
It grows like cancer
Fast and furious 
I become scared of myself
And what my mind can do
Suddenly,
As the beats pump against my ear drum
The person I keep the largest distance from
Is me
Stop
Stop Stop
Stop
Silence
My face is hot
My eyes are glossed
And all I want
Is someone to fix these feelings inside
Someone to make it all make sense
But there is no one
So I lay on

The Sad Truth

I will never forget High school
Mainly, because it was the bane of my existence
But also, because of 5 minutes in one particular class.

I'm sure it's every teachers dream to be written about
Or to have some recognition that at least one student
Was appreciative.
But for this instance, my teacher was wholly himself
And for that matter, most likely unaware of his sincerity.
As we studied some British poem,
For the fifth day in a row,
I tried to dissect the author by becoming his mind
Unexpectedly, Mr. Mitchell said something that changed
My view on everything.
"He does not love her because she is lovely...
..She is lovely because he loves her."
Perhaps he had rehearsed it,
Or perhaps that was his annual punchline
Either way,
It was impactful
And sad
Sad because people no longer live life in such a way
But rather let the superficial mindset of our society
Dictate their fickle minds

It's sad
But true
And I've learned to love the truth 
Because at least when you're sad
You know it's real

To: Someone Living in Somewhere

Sometimes I do believe I am 18 going on 80
Feeling things young people my age do not feel
But at the same time,
Seeing things older people do not see
Experiencing things older people do not experience
And you may ask yourself,
"What good with this blog entry do for you?"
The answer?
Nothing really.
Nothing at all.
Nothing except give me hope that someone, somewhere,
Is reading this
And that someone from somewhere
Knows exactly what I'm talking about
Because no one here,
Does
Or maybe they do-
But they have not stretched their minds enough
There are too many "tight minded" people
As I like to call them.
If minds were like tires,
They would have the same set in all their automotive owning years
As for me,
My tread would be worn
I would need a rotation twice a month
At least
I would be in debt because I couldn't afford the maintenance
But would continue to drive
Because what is life if you don't?
The problem is not that people aren't driving,
The problem is that they don't even think about it
Or where they are parked.

Still following me?
It's alright, most people can't.
Every teacher I have ever had says the same thing,
"I can't follow your thoughts, but they're profound."
But what if they're not?
I don't believe they are.
I believe that you cannot measure profound
Because I believe it to be relative
Is that profound?
I give up.

I wish I could give every person reading this a high five.
Just to say thank you.
I would give hugs, but I don't like being touched.
I guess it's a recluse- writer thing.
The fact of it is,
Most people I wish would read this won't,
And most that won't, aren't missing much
But for now I'll think of myself as a
Profound recluse

Just for now.

Gross Emotion

Although most teen angst churns my stomach at an uncomfortable level,
I will procede with delivering my emotion with a high level of despiration

I'm not wishing my life away,
But I just want someone
Someone to look at me
And feel pure love

Someone that tries to focus on other things
But wrestles to keep my image excluded from their thoughts
Someone who counts their blessings,
And I'm at the top of that list

I hope one day I have a husband.
I say "hope" because there are so many factors that could prevent him
The end of the world,
My juvenile death,
My inability to love,
Circumstantial road blocks,
Deadly disease,
Or my mere stubborness
Taking me down roads life did not intend for me to travel

Someone that knows my insecurities and sensitivities
And just how to tip toe around them
Someone that appreciates the occasional dirt under my nails
Because it displays my priorities

Someone that lets me down

Because it means that I trust something about him extensively
And brews royal expectations

I'm not wishing my life away,
But I just want someone.

Presence of the Soul, Absence of the Mind

What if I were to tell you I am not who you think I am.

Selfish, not generous
Hateful, not loving
Voilent, not peaceful

Is it really that hard to believe?
Maybe all the things I claim to be are just masks to hide what I truly am.

You might not believe it
Feel free to believe
But just because you believe does not mean it holds true

Waking up every day as a stranger to myself
Hoping that one day
I will wake up knowing myself
Because I have learned
That in order to know others
I must first know myself
Well

Maybe I am complaining of something too small
Maybe I should stop searching, and I will find
But that would be too easy
Wouldn't it?

I suppose some help would be nice
But who really would want to help
A person incapable of ever helping herself