Ashes to Ashes, and Dust to Dust, all that this comes down to is us

So once upon a time I met a boy, and not to long after that I fell in love with him. Typical story of a typical teenage high school romance. But there is something about this boy that is different then anything I have ever felt before. Id do anything for him. Id do anything to see him smile. The thought of him makes my world feel content. I am honestly in love with him.

at least once a week I get the question..."How is it being in a long distance relationship, like is it hard?" As strange as this is, this question always makes me smile. because I understand it. In this day an age where the average marriage only last 8 years, and the divorce rate is 50% how in the world do to young adults make a long distance relationship last as long as we have?

The answer... I have no clue. It always baffles me to think that people doubt such things. I mean I love him. That is the real answer. for what is any relationship with out love. even so far away we still make time for each other, and we learn to appreciate the little things, a letter in the mail, a package of random dollar tree nic nacks.

Love is accepting things as they are... and just loving each other through it all

far to long since i last posted

not that it matters this is purely for me anyway...

I spent tonight doing something I have not done in a long time. I sat at my window and tried to fall asleep on the window seat. Laying there with the window open and the cool air filling my lungs. It was like the memories of you came in with every breath I took. The nights spend sitting there talking to you about everything under the sun. Those phone calls that would go on for hours. Those discussions that never really became debates because we agreed on everything.I can honestly say I have not had nearly an intellectual conversation that honestly intrigued my mind since. Those phone calls that made me cry and scream in anger. Those phone calls that caused the suffering of my grades and the sleeping in many a class.
That is all we ever had was phone calls. Nothing more then a voice to talk to. But for some reason or another they held the highest of value to me. I never knew when I would be getting the phone call how long I would have to wait to talk again. But when the phone rang with your caller ID it was never a question of to answer or not.
For the first time in over a year I let myself think about you tonight. I don't know why, Its not like i have told myself that I don't want to think about you. It is just you no longer hold an importance in my life. You hurt me. But you made me stronger. You made me struggle. But you made me stand tall. In destroying me you probably did the best thing for me.
I have been over all that for a very long time. Thus meaning that it is rare that you may cross my mind. And like tonight it is not a matter of any specific thought because I don't have one. Just that you left a hand print on my life. For good, or for bad, I can not say, and personally I may never know. I guess I don't know why I am writing this or what the purpose for saying anything at all is. But I feel like the statement is necessary...

Anti- Poem

This is an anti poem.
This poem spits on personification.
This poem annihilates diction.
This poem fights similes like a WWF cage fight.
This poem asks,
How would you feel if I never picked up a pen?
Never again.
Would you notice?
Would the world collapse?
Would panic ensue?
The catastrophic melting of ice caps
Of polar bears dying.
No.
My words are nothing to you.
Nothing to the world.
They won’t change a plan.
They can’t stop a train.
Words.
Letters on a page.
Words.
My pen.
My paper.
Nothing.
Nothing in the scheme of things.
A page in a desk.
A scribble on a sheet.
A second on the stage.
I don’t care.
I spill my words.
My hopes.
My fears.
Do you care?
No.
Do I care?
No
Words.

Looking back and Moving Forward, my 2nd place poetry slam poem

I’m going to walk down Melrose,
And take a picture at the homedepot.
I’m going to leave a message in the 7th box from the door in room 412,
And have it read, "Let the sky rain potatoes".
I’m going to go to the wall,
And leave a piece of gum on it.
I’m going to wonder over to the tree,
And carve “ours” into the trunk.
I’m going to brave the ladder, climb to the catwalk,
And draw a stick figure holding a heart.
I’m going to go to cold stone.
And ask for a sample spoon.
I’m going to climb the fence on top of the hill,
With that spoon in my hand.
I’m going to drive around vista,
With a stuffed cow on my dashboard.
I’m going to go down to the park,
And name the ducks in the creek.
I’m going to drive to the parking lot,
And leave a note card with my deepest secret.
I’m going to walk around the block,
And leave my roller blades by the dent in the street light.
I’m going to get on the sprinter,
Not knowing where I’m going or how I’m going to get back.
I’m going to stand on a street corner,
Holding a blank sign.
I’m going to be late for curfew,
But have enough time to whisper I love you.
I’m going to go to Disneyland,
And leave a math problem in a locker.
I’m going to write the greatest love story ever,
And not let anyone read it.
I’m going to go to a rival school’s football game,
And pretend I go there.
I’m going to take my blanket,
And leave it under the stars.
I’m going to wander Wal-Mart in a ball gown,
And not think it’s strange at all.
I’m going to voice my opinion,
Standing up for what I know is right.
I’m going to get 400 signatures to stop discrimination,
In two days.
I’m NOT going to talk for a day,
To show you I love and support who you are.
I’m going to sit in a hotel hallway at four in the morning,
And tell you I’m not tired.
I’m going to stay up on the phone with you for 8 hours,
Because I want to know everything about you.
I’m going to pretend I don’t know how to skateboard,
So you will teach me.
I’m going to squeeze your hand,
To show you I am still there by your side.
I’m going to walk to the end of the pier,
And scream into the ocean because you hurt me.
I’m going to close my eyes,
And pretend like I am dancing with you.
I’m going to write reasons why I love you on post its,
And leave them for you to find.
I’m going to make you a pie,
And forget to put in sugar.
I’m going to take too many pictures,
But not delete a single one.
I’m going to meet so many people,
But never forget my closest friends.
I’m going to write a love poem,
and never deliver it.
I’m going to close my eyes and smile for,
Four years of movies, car rides, laughs and cries.
I’m going to miss you.
I’m going to move on,
I’m going to take the next step in my life,
But I’m not going to forget you.

Accessory

Handbags
Shoes
Scarfs
and gloves

Your nothing more then an accessory.
You come in every shape and size.
You can even be personalized.

You go along with the objects around you.
You don't stand out but you attempt to make a statement.
You even claim to go through mistreatment.

You hold no value.
You hold no meaning.
That my dear is why I am intervening.

Your not fabulous.
And, your not grand.
From my wardrobe you have been banned.

Attempting to find your nitch.
Trying to match up to this seasons splendors.
But darling even you know your just a blunder.

Thrift store reject.
Just a costume joke.
Something to make fun of and poke.

Stop pretending to be.
Not everything is what it seems.
So stop with your pathetic Schemes.

A Love story

Criminals, Airports, and love

It started by a chance meeting; two strangers in an airport no special place. No sparks went off, no fireworks in their first meeting. In all honestly they had nothing in common a man and a woman from different parts of the country in their own worlds. She was an insurance agent. He was a hotel manager. Both careers kept them in airports often. But today would change any other flight they would ever take again.
“oh I’m terribly sorry mama.”
The man apologized as he accidently bumped into the women as he walked past her sitting in a chair.
“Is this seat taken?”
He gestured to the empty seat to her left.
“No not at all, go ahead.”
The woman said with a smile. She turned back to her book. Not a book generally read by an insurance agent. The book was titled Obsession written by John E. Douglas, a book about the inside of serial killer minds. What makes them think why they do what they do. The man took notice of the woman’s reading material. Not something the common reader read. He only knew the title because he had picked it up accidently a few years earlier, a little light reading on one of his many flights. He had become hooked on this enchanting, in a dark, disturbing way, genre of reading material.
“Excuse me this may be a strange question and feel free to tell me if I’m invading too much into the life of a stranger. But that book your reading? Are you a criminal profiler?”
At first the women was a little taken a back why in the world was this stranger talking to her?
“Me? Oh this no it’s just an odd fascination of mine. I quite enjoy these types of books.”
She returned back to her book. Figuring this conversation had ended. The man looked about the airport. He didn’t quite feel like reading right then. He could not concentrate with all the noise and the people anyway. He glanced at the woman still reading.
“I’m, Mark by the way.”
She glanced at him and smiled then continued reading. She flew enough that she had learned it was better to just not talk then make small talk with the strangers around her.
“You know I am quite a fan of the criminal profiling genre of books, actually the entire human mind amazes me.”
The woman realized that reading around this man, Mark? Did he say his name was? Would be impossible. But he didn’t seem to be the regular creeper bent on hitting her or the desperate traveler I need of a conversation. So she gave in.
For the next half hour the discussed their fascination with the human mind and how it works. They talked about their jobs. How they were in and out of air ports all the time. Often time in different cities every other week. She had a home in San Francisco she rarely saw. He had a loft in Manhattan he had not been to in months. They talked till they boarded their separate planes for separate destinations.
Two strangers on two different paths. In two different worlds.
Many weeks past and it didn’t take long for her to forget the stranger in the airport. In fact she had forgotten all about him. As he had forgotten her.
It was a rainy Thursday afternoon in the Seattle airport. The woman was in need of a coffee and was thrilled when her caramel macchiato was placed up on the bar. As the order was called she went grab it only for her hand to meet with another.
“oh I’m terribly sorry mama”
The woman looked into the face of the man she had forgotten and remembered.
“you!”
She was pleasantly shocked to meet him again.
“Well, if its not a small world. I do believe we have met once before, Kate is it?”
He was secretly pleased to have run into the beautiful women with the beautiful mind once again.
As they meet again the second coffee was placed on the bar. They grabbed their drinks and sat down to talk as they waited for their flights. They talked about their lives since they had last seen each other. Never going into too much detail. Never saying to much neither ever knowing much about the others true life.
This time when they left they exchanged numbers. They had created a friendship of sorts. Two strangers who met in an airport.
Whenever they found a moment when they would be in the same city or could arrange a lay over in the same town they did. They never left the airport. Coffee every few weeks one day Chicago another Austin.
They never spoke into much detail of their lives. Just enough to keep a conversation and only long enough till one of them had to catch a flight.
They never told each other but in a strange way they had fallen in love. They both knew it was a relationship that would never work they were from different worlds. With only airports in common. But they were lovers of sorts lovers in an airport starbucks.


*not done I need a good closing but I cant think of it right now.

I Cant Speak and I cant Hear But I dont Care

So I make it a goal I attend at least one concert a month. Last night I went to the Hollywood Undead Concert at the San Diego House of blues. Strange that I love this band, I tend to shy away from this genre of music with those type of lyrics however they seem to be an exception in my mind. But my choice in music is not what this blog is about but about why I go to Concerts.

Pushing my way through the crowds of people with the goal of making it as close to the stage as I can. People jumping pushing and shoving. The rush of toppling over and trying to get up before you get hurt. I LOVE THE RUSH THE CRAZINESS I LOVE IT! Standing there in front of the stage the pulse of every beat pulsing through every part of my body. Screaming as i rich out my hand and the lead singer grabs it. I love this feeling. I don't think many things beat the rush of going to a concert.

18 and starting over

So as many of you know ( idk why im addressing this like a lot of people read this I know only like 3 do) any who...... In the last 11 months I have severely made some changes in my life.

In 20 min i turn 18. I dont look at this as another birthday but as another life. I look at it as a complete redo. That I have gone through childhood, Preteen years, Teen years, and am now entering Adulthood.

I hope I can live up to my own expectations.

Friday night mind splat

Ok so tomorrwo night is the last night of my last spring musical at rancho. It kinda sucks. I find myself in tears to think about it. I remember my first day in the drama room. A little afriad taken back by all the posters and pictures on the walls. I remember my first show. The Wizard of Oz I remember not knowing anyone. I remember meeting Bailey and creating a friend. I remember My first green room and being completly confused on what was going on. Im sad to see it all end. I dont want it to. Years of memories many many friends. Ill miss you all. Thank you for being my family! Thank you for cureing tears and creating laughs. Thank you all of you!



Ok so im also a little upset right now. So im going to mira Costa, no arizona for me all because of money and yea im a little pissed about that. I feel like all i have worked for is nothing. THat i could have slacked off and it would not have mattered! GERRRRRRRRRR!!!!! there is not point! i feel cheated. I keep being told sorry... that dosnt help much....

uhhhg i keep trying to think of the good... well like, I get to have classes and two more years with Jez, and Jaymie... I mean thats cool... and I can transfer to a better school... but still GERRRR!!!!

Another new poem... Maybe a poetry slam entry?!?!?

ok well I cant take all the credit for this one... I have to give some to Nicki... cause it sorta branched off one of her poems, but I think hers is better.... sooooo here its at...

Go Back

Go back to the day I visited you at work,

and say I couldn't find a ride.
Go back to the day I sent that text,
and study for a test instead.

Go back to the day I got in your car,
and scream.
Go back to the day I told you the truth,
and keep it my little secret.
Go back to the day you called,
and forget to call you back.
Go back to the day in the park,
and take back those memories.
Go back to the Crow,
and never look into your eyes.
Go back to the day I picked up the phone,
and forget who you are.
Go back to the weekend,
and tell you to forget it.
Go back to that night,
and decide to go out instead.
Go back to that vacation,
and invite someone else.
Go back to that text message,
and accidentally delete it.
Go back to that summer night,
and answer that phone call.
Go back to when you broke my bracelet,
and laugh at your childish manner.
Go back to that dance,
and tell you I'm busy.
Go back to that nervous phone call,
and be to afraid to make it.
Go back to the beginning,
and forget the path I took.
Skip to the end to hear you say,
"do you remember when?"
only to declare...
"I'm sorry I forgot."

>>>> its a work in progress... I am not completely happy with it yet.. almost there... but i may re write it

Poems

Okay so I have not written in a while, kinda busy with the spring musical and internship and classes and stuff... any who I have written a few new poems... possible submissions to artistic rhapsody!?! So tell me what you think... and i promise to open my mind a little more in up coming weeks... I know some people have been complaining that I haven't written anything in a while, *cough* Toni *cough*

feel free to leave comments...I love criticism, and complements are always nice!

*!WARNING!* SINCE I HAVE NOT POSTED ANY OF MY POEMS OR SHORT WRITINGS ON THIS BLOG YET I FEEL THE NEED TO SUPPLY THE FOLLOWING WARNING: I WRITE ABOUT TOPICS CONSIDERED BY MANY TO BE DARK AND OR MORBID. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME I AM NOT PLANING TO OFF MYSELF NOR AM I UNHAPPY. WHAT I WRITE ABOUT IS STRICTLY FICTIONAL WORK VERY RARELY A REFLECTION ON MY ACTUAL LIFE MORE. MANY OF MY WRITINGS CAN BE CONSIDERED AN EXTREME OVER EXAGGERATION. TRUST ME THERE IS A CLEAR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MY FICTIONAL AND NON FICTIONAL WORK, PERSONALLY I TEND TO THINK MY FICTIONAL WORK IS BETTER, NOW THAT'S A DEPRESSING THOUGHT.

#1 This poem stemmed off of the first line the words entered my head during Pre-Calc about a week ago and i was undecided what I was going to do with it until I got bored in Government the other day.

The love Garden

Love is a rose bed.
The scent draws you in.
The appeal of the sweetness,
tickling your senses.
You watch the beauty bloom.
But to touch is a dangerous game.
Scorn from bleeding finger tips.
The searing sweet pain,
coursing through your limbs.
A pain that's easily forgotten,
the next time you enter The Garden.


#2 This is a work in progress. I wrote it yesterday. The different color writing is the section i am unsure about. I also am not so sure if i need something else at the end. I feel like it is going some where but I'm not sure it just needs something. Suggestions would be great, *cough* Nicki *cough* =)

The Vampire's Kiss

The kiss of death.
The sweet taste of seduction.
The water of life.
The color of evil.
A pulsing taste of re-birth,
re-juvenated,
re-stored.
The slowing of the human heart.
Death at your own hand.
You take life.
This deed gives it to you.
You the night stalker.
The angel of death,
devil's minion,
or,
god's punisher?
Evil wrapped in high fashion.
Beauty surrounded by destruction.
A fear cursed in curiosity.
Welcome to the beautiful nightmare.



So you see that thing right bellow this line that says comment... do it!

Stay diffrent!

open water

Two days ago i was accepted into Arizona State University...

a creative writing Major....

For months I have been scared out of my mind. All my life i have held some comfort in knowing where i was going that one year latter i would be here or there. But the unknown has scared me to death, not knowing where i was going. But now i do, sorta, I'm not sure that I will for a fact be going to ASU, but it is an extremely real possibility.

Where at a strange place in our lives... I like to sorta think of it as the in between...

the in between between knowing and not knowing

its a scary thought... its like standing in front of the ocean... you can see the surface... but you cant see whats under it all... and you can only see so far...

And here we are standing on the shore...

we can see a glimpse of where we are going... but we cant go for it.

all we can do is look out into the open water... and prepare to jump

one year ago... you became my best friend

one year ago you changed my life...

on simple phone callyou soathed away tears and fears...

you listened and spoke...

you cared when you had no reasson to...

it was the worst night of my life....

you terned it into the starting point of the best times of my life...

Today you are soo much more then just the best friend you became that night....

Thank you... for giveing me my life... and standing by me when as became the person i am today

More english home work!

crayon box


So I was reading this survey and one of the questions was "if you where a crayon what color crayon would you be?" and it got me to thinking... what color crayon would I be? after doing a little research ( im bored people, seriously I have nothing better to do with my time) I discovered since the establishment of Crayola Crayons in 1903, the Crayola team has created over 120 different colored crayons all deriving from the original 8 Black, Brown, Blue, Orange, Violet, Green, Red, and Yellow. New colors include everything from Flesh (which was changed to peach on 1962 due to the civil rights movement) to Ultra Pink (Ultra was used to identify the florescent colors until 1990 when the names where changed). In the early 1990's costumers were being asked to name the new crayons where names such as Wild Strawberry and Piggy Pink where introduced. After contemplating this wide selection of colors one would think I would pick the most outrageous crazy far from the norm color. But after much thought I easily decided which would represent me. Introduced in the early 1950's this color has been a part of every Crayola box. Never retired, never renamed, it is often forgotten that it is even there. But I believe the Crayon that would best suit me out of the box would be white. White! You say. Yes white. One thing about the lonely white crayon of the box is that though when you are first introduced to it as white upon opening a new box, it never stays that way. Eventually the other colors begin to rub off on it. Instead of that new white look it begins to get specks of blue, green and yes wild strawberry on it. When you finally do decided to use the white crayon you come to realize that it does not actually draw white. You are left with rembrents of all the other colors of the box that come along with it. And it never leaves the same colors sometimes its blueish sometimes it’s redish. These added colors often lead to frustration as you draw your sketch of the night sky when you are left with an off-pink looking star. But aren’t these specks just the influence and the knowledge the other crayons have left upon it. Each speck is a memory of the time that crayon was placed next to it in the box. How each and every crayon in the box has affected that white crayon. That ladies and gents is why I think I am the white crayon. Because when you first meet me I am a clean slate, but the longer you get to know me it’s the influences and the memory others have left upon my life that begin to be reveled. So in conclusion I would like to thank all of those who have left specks on me and turned me into the not so white crayon that I am

my english homework

Ligh vs Dark. Bad vs Good?

So many people have asked me what's so great about the night that I would rather get up at sunset and go to sleep at dawn. Why I spend countless hours lost in thought under the night sky? How I can prefer to walk into a dark room and leave the lights off.
But I have some questions myself. Why does the dark evoke fear in the human mind? Why do the monsters in the stories meant to scare us as children, (Ghost, Vampires, Werewolves, etc.) only appear by moon light? Why do we Search for beauty in the day yet fail to see the splendor of the night.
Fear of the Dark is not an uncommon thing, as children most of us cling to the night light to scare away the "monsters" from under our beds. Even as we grow older and learn that these monsters do not exist we still jump when the sliest sound stirs in the night.
We assume with in our minds the connection between darkness and evil there for making light=good and God and the dark=bad and the Devil. Therefore those who delight in those things we classify as dark and evil (Monsters, the night, magic, the darker side of our minds) are themselves classified as evil. But are they not just embracing a side of the human form others shun in fear or possible in an attempt to not be the evil outcast?
At some time within our childhood we all believe monsters to be real even as our parents reassure is that they do not exist. A part of our mind always is fearful of them. But as we grow up we tend to stop believing in them, however, those of us who continue to stay fascinated with these creatures of the dark are often made fun of and concidered outcasted, the dark creepy kids.
Vampires and magic are probable two of the legends that are so often the center of controversy. The Vampire has captivated the minds of humans for centuries. Many people are fearful of a creature that can appear as if almost out of no where sinking their teeth into our skin killing us. However a large portion of people long to have this vampire power..
What is it about the Vampire that captivates us? In almost every Vampire legend the hopeless romantic form seems to rise above the rest. How is it that something so sinister can captivate our hearts? What girl does not long for a vampire romance, to be sought out to be praised by a man that shows the utmost affection towards her?
On the side of magic, I have never met on person who at some time in their life not dreamed of possessing the gift of magic. To be able to bring themselves good fortune and those who do bad upon them, a cures. Yet as history has shown us we fear this power as well. Sixteen people were brutally killed during the Salem witch trials of 1692. All young innocent people accused of doing a great evil. Even today those who call themselves, witches and warlocks, are themselves associated with evil. Most of the time these are just harmless teenagers having fun, however there are many people out there who really do believe they posses some sort of power.
Do we fear these people because of the fact that we ourselves do not have something as powerful as this? Why is the church so determined to condemn children's books such as Harry Potter, calling it the work of the devil because of the use of witch craft? Are they not just harmless fictional books made to entertain the mind? What is the huge danger in a world of magical creatures?
Yes in a world of magic bad is going to exist there is always going to be someone out there power hungry wishing to take control. But does that not happen even today in a world without magic? Did Hitler not do as much damage as any one possessing a magic power could do? For were there is a bad side to something isn't there almost always a good side? Yes good may not always win in real life but has it not been shown through out history that good can at least make a crack in evils armor?
And what about the people that delight in these things. The stereotypical kid walking down the street dressed in all black looking as thought he's inches from flinging himself off a cliff. Shunned by the rest of the world because he would rather live with any pain he feels then to join this age of anti depressants. Where all we are doing is messing with the chemical balance of our body forcing someone to be happy can not be any more healthy then a person who struggles with the pain of an event in their life. We are so afraid of the darker side of our emotions that we have spent billions of dollars in changing them because it is said to be bad. But all these people are doing is realizing that this side of the human plate of emotions is completely normal and they have chosen to embrace it rather then shun it for the acceptance of the rest of the world.
And yet in the end everything once again comes back to associate with the darkness of night and evil. Is it fear of the unknown? As we fear on a walk home after night fall of a stranger emerging from the dark?
But why then do we not live in constant fear of the same thing during the day? I have never heard of a single crime that only took place at night and was not committed during the day. Then why at night do we suddenly become nothing more then venerable prey?
As night falls we rush past it into our cozy homes, locking all doors, turning on the lights, and curling up under a blanket as though it's some shield against the evils of the dark.
We fail to see the beauty of it all. The strange orange glow of a harvest moon slowly rising in the sky, casting an odd glow over the world. The shadows created by a tree's branches basking in the moonlight. How the colors of the world seem to change. They almost match to different shades of the same color almost as to say, "all is equal in this hour." Even a simple flower is different by moonlight, creases in the petals that seem to pop out of it, that were not seen during the day.
The most beautiful thing of the night is not really a sight however, but a sound. The sound of the night. The sound of silence. Silence that makes everything feel as though it is not moving. That the world is frozen in time and you alone are left with your thoughts. This stillness is only broken by the cry of some nocturnal creature, as to say, "thank god for this wonderful beauty."
For only god could create something like this. Something so beautiful, no evil could have laid a hand upon it. For in the beginning god created night and day, one can not survive without the other, as many opposites of this world can not. But as in all things that have a reverse, one is easily feared.
But in fearing, we have forgotten the wondrous beauty that we have been gifted, when the full moon revels itself for the first time on a cloud covered night from behind clouds that appear silver on the star doted canvas that is the night sky. The beauty that is the night.

A man who changed the world

*warning this is the first but certainly not last controversial blog i will be posting, and this one isn't even that conterversel, your opinions are appreciated, and ill read them it may not change my opinion it may give me a different perspective.


So i went to see the Valkyrie with Tyler and Katie today. Its this movie about an assassination attempt on Hitler. The major part of the movie honestly was not really focused on Hitler at all, the actor portraying him only had a few lines. However the film did give a clear insight into the power this man held over Germany. Many scenes that i can only assume the directors/writers put in on purpose portrayed this. But one that stood out the most was when a telegraph message operate Begin crying upon learning the false information that Hitler had been killed. There is no doubt that Hitler did many many horrible things. However, he was an extraordinary man in a way. He managed to gain the trust and loyalty of millions of people. He grabbed on to peoples fear and a need to place that fear into something. As horrible of a person as he was he was extraordinary at becoming powerful

Time

So I went to the wild animal park with chris today. Have you ever noticed the amount of old people and how slow they are. But it got me thinking, maybe they are not walking slow just because they are old maybe they are takeing their time. Takeing their time because they know something we don’t. that time keeps going that it dosnt slow down so you have to slow down for it. Walk slow with the one you love in order to charies every momment you have with them. Take the long way home just to spend an extra 5 min holding their hand. Time dosnt stop… but we can streach it out. So don’t walk to fast you forget to see the colors. Don’t think to seriously, stop to laugh. Take a deep breath and be thankful for the time you have.

Love

Love is Evil.
Love is indescribable.
Love is a knife in your heart
Love is floating on air
Love is crushing
Love is lifting
Love is painful
Love is magical
Love is nothing
Love is everything

So because everyone always have to I figure I'm going to write my own little thing on love.

I have loved three people in my life... well two maybe three.

First loves... I think it is important that everyone always keeps their first love in their heart. I think its important no matter how messy the break up that one continues to love their first love. Because honestly your first love is the reason for the rest of your relationships. Your first love gives you those things you know you know to look for in your future relationships. It is the basic building block of all future relationships... You should never stop talking to your first love. You should never stop caring. Never regret any moment because once you would give your life for it you have no right to regret it now.

Second love? I have always questioned this love. It was a short relationship. Many people called it a rebound. I didn't cry when we broke up. Even if i lied and said i did. I only cried when i was told that he had said he had not loved me. Honestly he never said that to me. Even at the end of our friendship he didn't say it to me. Not to my face. He told me he hated me in a text. But he never said he didn't love me. I don't know if i ever really did. I've heard it said if you dont cry in the end it wasn't really love. I didn't cry. The only time i cried was when i lost him as a friend. I think I put more of my heart into that "friendship" then i did into the relationship. I spent a year chasing after "love." even a love i questioned to be love, why? I knew i was being used. I knew i was being strung along. So why did i chase after him. Why did I continue to tell myself i love him. when i questioned it. After everything that happened I should hate him.... but I don't... I don't care about him, at least not like i used to.... and i don't love him... not like if i ever did. I don't miss him... but i thank him. I thank him for teaching me many life lessons, though some hard, i thank him because if it wasn't for him i would have never meet love number three.

Every girl wants their fairy tale. Most girls never find it or work so hard they settle for less. But i did i found it. I cant put into words how much i love this boy. when I'm with him nothing wrong can happen. I never thought that I would be able to last in a long distance relationship. But you know as much as i miss him its not that hard. I mean sure it sucks not seeing him when i want to. not being able to hold him. But it makes me love every moment I'm with him even more. No one compares to him. he is perfect. The only way i can explain it is think of that sappy girlly chick flick... and that feeling you get while watching it... that "awww i want that relationship... why doesn't that happen in really life" feeling... that what i have everyday... but its 100 times better cause i actually have that relationship! Its true what everyone says about dating your best friend its so amazing.

If there is one thing i have learned in my dating life its this.... Love is the most complicated thing in the world... yet the simplest. Love is as full of contradictions as I am. No one can explain love. but everyone has a theory on it. Love is not an emotion or a state of mind. Love is just that Love.... a four letter word that can start and stop wars, Destroy and build house holds, fix and complicate lives. Its just Love!

I cant tell you what love is or what it feels like. No more then you can tell me. Just don't be afraid to love. that's the only advice anyone can ever give on the subject. Broken hearts mend and hearts that love always full.

Little decissions that will change your life

For a very long time now I have been told that i make decisions today that effect the rest of my life. That its not fair that i don't have the life experience to do so. But what is not enough recognized is how EVERYTHING changes your life. deciding to answer my phone even when i didn't recognize the number changed my life. Calling that number back and talking to that person changed so many things. I look back on many phone calls that changed things in my life. If i had not talked to Chris that night even when there was only one person i wanted to talk to. I would never have learned to trust him so much. I would never had become to close to him. He would have never become one of my best friends. I would not be dating him. If i had not gotten texting i would never have had that conversation which lead to may 2nd (the day of the biggest mistake of my life). But its SO much more then all of that. I meet my first best friend because she liked my shoes. If i had gotten diffrent shoes maybe I would have different friends. But this is deeper then just my life. If i had not become friends with her I would not have made other friends i made through my life. I would not have meet J. (not giving full name) I would not have stopped him from killing himself. But maybe he would have done it. Maybe he would have meet someone else. Maybe they wouldn't have sent him thousands of miles away. Maybe...Maybe...maybe...maybe.... but we have to look at where we are and not at what the could have beens right. But its strange to think that even right now... deciding to lay in bed and type this while watching a movie could be changing something in my life....