| Marty |
[24 Jul 2009|11:30pm] |
Ms. Krantz's second grade class for gifted learners was a very harsh place. Jenny wore her brother's green shirt with a pocket on the front to school that day and, in doing so, matched three of the boys in her class. Not exactly the best way to start off the year with the girls in her class; those girls did not wear boy shirts. Gifted kids always got to do weird projects and things no other classes did and today they were making things out of paper, anything you wanted. Jenny, so far, had managed to make a sheet of paper out of her paper, it was not going very well. Marty, in his identical green shirt with floppy brown hair, sat across from her, working tediously on his own creation. On one side of his piece of paper he had fashioned a box that was slightly tilted to the left, and on the other side there was a tower with four small rectangles of paper coming out of it. Jenny stared in awe. Her creation was going nowhere. She crumpled up the paper and decided it could be a could, of course clouds need angels. She sat, for ten minutes trying desperately to make angels for her cloud, no success. Mark spoke up.
"Jenny, do you like my paper?" He twisted nervously in his seat.
"Sure Marty! I just wish mine was that good." Jenny blew the bangs out of her face, they fell right back in front of her eyes.
"Okay, well you see. This is a house for us to live in when we get old," he pointed to the slanting box, "and this is a palm tree, because we'll live on the beach, and I'm gonna draw some waves and sand. Would you live there with me?"
"Marty and Jenny, I am sick of telling you two not to talk! Marty you will be permanently trading seats with Tiffany, and you can start over on your project if you have so much time to talk!" And in one fatal swoop, Ms. Krantz threw Marty's project into the trash. Two small tears began to form at the corner's of Jenny's eyes. Marty rushed to the table across the room. The rest of the day, Jenny was quiet. Finally, recess came around and the class was let outside, a break from Ms. Krantz. Jenny waited five minutes and asked to use restroom, all of which were located inside the building. Once inside she went quietly to the classroom, where she fished Marty's beach house out of the trash. She put it into her backpack where Ms. Krantz wouldn't find it and walked back outside. Marty was waiting for her.
-this is just a rough draft, still needs work
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| We Continue to Fall |
[13 Jan 2009|12:53pm] |
Drifting by on sweet white snowflakes,
all the memories we've shared.
Only to end up shitting,
writhing for life
in the middle of the muddy street.
But who can't appreciate
the purity of white snow
falling, and who remembers
the sludge it becomes?
I would have been content
to let our friendship fade.
To reflect kindly on it
and remember you
with my whole heart.
But life is always changing
and love is always fleeting
and you threw things away
so they would burn and shrivel up.
I got caught in the line of fire,
and sludge we became.
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| Apathetic |
[13 Dec 2008|12:25pm] |
I was mistaken for a tree branch
by an unambitious sloth.
It took nearly two weeks
just to shake him off.
And when I did, he glared
and started up again,
in hope of finding
a better branch
than me.
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| Still digging. |
[02 Nov 2008|09:48pm] |
Lime green Converse sneakers laced up to the top. Corduroy overalls accidentally tucked in on side of my right leg. One solitary sideways braid, frizzy, and awkwardly positioned on the side of my head. I peek over the wooden bench where I had been hiding, hiding while digging for dinosaur bones in the dirt on my elementary playground. Steven told me that someone had found them there once so I was sure that I could find more. A small stick served as my archeologist's tool. I could hear the girls standing on the other side of the bench talking, so I ducked my head back beneath the bench.
"She's a little weirdo. Like, look at her, her hair is gross, her clothes are grosser, and, like, she is so annoying." Melanie, she was the head of the group. I looked at Erica, she had been my best friend since we could talk, I wondered what she'd say.
"I don't know, like, she's really not all that bad." This was the 90's. The era of the valleygirl. They thought adding the word like into their vernacular made them cool like Alicia Silverstone. I smiled a little, "she's really not all that bad" was a meeger defense, but it was still a defense.
Melanie was wearing a pink skirt with a pink top, matching. Nothing I would have ever worn, it wasn't suitable for climbing on the jungle gym or racing around during P.E. She looked at Erica, obviously disgusted. "She will never be popular, like us. She will never be cool, and if you want to be cool, you need to decide, it's either her or us."
My breath caught in my throat. I knew her answer. Before she even said it. My books and adventures were no match for the p word. Popular, meant the world to those girls and especially to Erica. I didn't hear her answer, but she walked away with them. The issue had been decided. There I was, eight years old, forced into exile. My arms found their way across my chest, and my legs pulled up until I was my own cocoon. Stay strong. There was a yell from the basketball court. I peeked back over the bench. There was Kyle laughing at Erica. Pulling her hair, taking her glasses away from her and threatening her with the basketball. I wiped off my hot tears and stomped furiously to the basketball court.
"You're such a jerk Kyle! She wasn't bothering you! Give her back her glasses right now or I'm going to throw that basketball at your head!" I grabbed the basketball out of his hands and threw it very hard in his directions. He promptly gave the glasses back. I walked back behind my wooden bench, and Erica watched silently from the court. I resumed digging for dinosaur bones.
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| questioning |
[23 Oct 2008|11:56am] |
I don't feel like you've been in this for a long time.
That you've simply been biding time.
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| do you believe what you're saying? |
[04 Sep 2008|12:22pm] |
yeah right now but not that often.
school is in full swing! lots of class lots of work lots of choir. i got pretty stressed out last night but this girl at work just came over and talked me through my paper and it was really great and it made me really feel a lot better about it. i'm nervous about this writers workshop class i'm taking because the main focus in on sonnets and sonnets have never really been my thing but i didnt feel like langham creeks senior english really took a great look at sonnets so i thought maybe i'd give it a try. i never dreamed a&m would start to feel like home but it really kinda is this semester :-) so things get better. and things help. and christopher being in houston and not san antonio is a freaking blessing from above.
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| no one really knows the ones they love |
[03 May 2008|05:33pm] |
if you knew everything they thought i bet you'd wish that they'd just shut up.
been busycrazy the past couple weeks. so so so ready for summertime and the promised livin' easy. but. there is still things to be done before that. when i was little i loved summer because it was my birthday time. if it was summer i knew my birthday had to be coming soon. and birthday meant a party and presents and cake and all the incredible wonderful things that birthdays bring to a little kid. its weird to think that my birthday hasnt changed, it is still the exact same date but my perception of my birthday has changed.
also when i was little i used to love this like fantasy book that i had. in the book there were two like worlds of people. one world of people could make anything they wanted by just imagining it. the other group of people could live in their minds so that they could create anything they wanted inside their heads. whenever i was little i thought of course the people with the ability to magically create anything they wanted were the people to be. but now that i go back to it. i'm pretty sure i wouldn't want to be either. how horrible to be trapped in your mind.
and how horrible to get anything you ever wanted.
its reasoning like that.
my english professor told me that the best parts of my writing are when i am being ironic and self-mocking.
ironically, that IS exactly what i expected to hear.
concidentally, no single comment on a paper has ever made me feel more vulnerable and exposed.
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| He didn't mean to make you cry |
[25 Apr 2008|03:19pm] |
With sparks that ring and bullets fly.
-I really need to figure out where I am going to work this summer.-
can we will our worst fears into existance merely by worrying too much about them?
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| poetry explosion |
[26 Feb 2008|11:43pm] |
life springs from bone
bone comes from life
that you are left with bones
denotes there once was strife
and strife, will come again
to bones made new
the most revealing part of us
one day my bones, will make you.
-
Where is your fight?
there was a small American man
with the whole world on his shoes
he was never boastful, proud, or rude
he'd never take from others
what he himself was due
but when the time came to really
really take a stand
the only one with cap in hand
was the small American man
-
in hollow structures, we find refuge.
in hollow hearts, we value soul.
in barely breathing, we reveal it all.
and we fill ourselves with whatever we can find;
and we fill our lungs to help us unwind.
and we fill the world, and think its divine.
-
In arms I choose to write my love poem.
In love I choose to write my declaration of war.
In your arms I once found my consolation
but now you seek to love no more.
-
I was walking with my love
when we came upon a wooden door.
I found his name upon it,
scratched next to hers, from before.
this made me contemplate
why the door had not been sanded down
if she still haunts here
how long will she stay around?
I passed through the door
and watched a picture show
it became suddenly apparent
that woman has to go.
I packed a bag
and set it outside the door
if she did not come to claim it
I would be the one the bag was for.
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| the spirit of aggieland |
[21 Feb 2008|05:17pm] |
quite a few things.
i always get compliments when i wear my mocassins. do people really like them or is this representative of white guilt?
today i was walking in to class and this girl put her hand over the chair next to her. i didn't even want to sit there? It was almost like a "talk to the hand". worst part is, no one ever came to sit next to her.
today in texas history.
Random student: Dr. Is it true that Sam Houston let Santa Ana go because they were both free masons?
Prof: No, its because they were both members of skull and bones at yale.
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| don't run |
[16 Jan 2008|01:33am] |
You get the car
I'll get the night off
You'll get the chance to take the world apart and figure out how it works
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| some days |
[06 Jan 2008|02:04am] |
i feel really typical.
i mean. i know that i am.
but some days i feel it more.
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| breaking it down 2007 |
[31 Dec 2007|12:26pm] |
for all the big kings of leon fans we heard about mid2007 they don't seem to be making a big stand in the best of lists. they wouldn't make mine anyway, not that i would make a list in the first place because it would really just be a lot of speculation and whatever mood i was in overall. so play me more okkervil river and bishop allen and keep your D.A.N.C.E. because you can find better dance music on the radio i personally feel than some of the eclectic jams the pretentious would-bes are trying to force down our throats. techno is def on the rise which i guess you can tip your hat to kanye for if that will make your litle heart happy. and not just in an ironic im not asian i play ddr kind of way like it used to be. everyone liked the arcade fire and lcd sound system. but i wouldnt take their simian mobile disco or the national. hold out and they'll bring you more i think.
and i'll still have the new modest mouse album. i really will.
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| the universe is shaped exactly like the earth |
[21 Dec 2007|10:22am] |
She learned to be tough from old Jackie Chan movies and miles of open road. She never found out that being tough sometimes meant things other than kung fu and not crying. Her arms built refuges of strength for her friends, but she never wept with them. He was the one who changed her, him, with his ripped shoes and warm eyes. She was stronger than ever that night, as tears fell silently down her cheeks. Her hand in his she found out that depending on other people can make us tougher than we ever imagined.
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| blue eyes when the wind was done you were carried on my shoulder |
[19 Nov 2007|09:15pm] |
| [ |
music |
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in the morning, before work -owen |
] |
i am really hopeful. two days and i will be in houston for a bit i want to see some certain people.
i have been trying to cleanse my karma. i don't know if you can do that or if you have to just let that happen,
but i have been trying to do it. just by letting go of stuff and being nice and i feel a lot better.
i don't have any real answers on life or anything that matters i just try and be the kind of person i'd like to know and
i hope that is enough.
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[30 Oct 2007|11:11pm] |
i am living in a world of boys apologies. even boys that don't owe me apologies are apologizing.
bonus: i get to see chris box this weekend.
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| people make you nervous |
[23 Oct 2007|11:22pm] |
you think the world is ending
and everybody's features have somehow started blending
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