Shattered

My girl was in an accident not that long ago. . .
She called me to tell me and now I can't stop shaking. I went down the hall to stay quiet and ended up against the wall. The next thing I knew I was on the floor and I couldn't breath, my heart feels like it will break my ribcage. I can only imagine what would have happened if something had gone wrong.
I don't want to think how lucky I am that she is alive and only a little banged up.
.
.
My god I love her so much. . . Don't you dare take her from me.

:'(

If it wasn't for. . .

If it wasn't for friends?
I'd have gone crazy.
If it wasn't for family?
I'd not have shoulder's to cry on.
If it wasn't for pets?
I'd have no one to play with.
If it wasn't for my mother?
I'd not have an apartment.
If it wasn't for my father?
I'd not know the feeling of speed, or what it's like to build with my hands.
If it wasn't for my sister?
I don't think I would have read, I don't think I would be writing.
If it wasn't for. . .
If it wasn't for Her?
This life would be meaningless. . .
If it wasn't for Her I don't know how much shit I could take and now I never will have to find out.
Because of her?
I can take on the world and laugh as it tries to fight back.

. . .

I don't know what to say. Busy is busy and haven't had time to do much. My body seems to like to kick my ass and I don't know how to fix it. Doc says I just have "A very sensitive stomach" well when that includes waking up with pain for 3 days straight and diarrhea most of the time after eating very little then she's probably right.
*sigh*
All I can do is push forward and pray pray pray it all comes through eventually. Semester is almost over, just a bit longer.

Inspired

I have written and written now. Writer's block seems to have dissipated. I wrote 7 pages one night for a story that I had no idea how it would end and now it is done!! I am so excited! Now I'm letting it cool down and myself to become. . . ready to destroy it :'(
But that is what must be done. I need to do grammar I know that but I wonder what else may need to be fixed. School is as heavy as ever but somehow I pull through.
Life update: Stomach pains have been hurting me for a while and now I have no idea as well as my doctor. . . .wow. . .
Keep in touch and informed of the life and times of a teenage Trickster

Writer's Block

It's that imaginary wall that stops all writers at some point in their career. When you try to write and all you come up with is. . .
*Throws pencil at wall* Grrrrr!
Damn you pencil!
.
.
.
Ok Now I'm talking to a pencil, great.
I feel like I'm grasping at air when my idea is smoke, I can feel when I get one but then it slips around my fingers, laughing as I try again.
It doesn't help that my mind is filled with other thoughts.: A dance I'm not going to with my girl because we weren't invited and can't sneak in; my father diagnosed with Celiac and me possibily having it too; having played all my games, read all my books, and seen all my movies so many times I know them all by heart; I proclaim "All I can do is write. . . But. . .That damned wall is blocking my way."

Up and Running

Today ladies and gentlemen is my birthday!!
:) today seems to have gone really well so far even. (Except for the dizziness and small amount of pain) I woke up to a text from my dad saying happy birthday and a call at 6:30 from my girl which made me smile so much. No girl had done that for me. . . It just shows me how much she cares. Now I am sitting here waiting for my sister who is taking me out to eat with her boy, and then after that three of us will become the four of us when we pick up my girl. We'll be seeing paranormal activities 2!! So excited and tomorrow a horror movie marathon, with 1st day driving!!!
*sigh* For right now, all is well.

I felt like wiriting and this is what came out. . .Untitled poetry

I sigh
You sigh.
I smile and you giggle.
I stare into your eyes
And you look back just the same way.
I whisper ,
“I love you”
And,
“I always will”
You smile this time,
And it makes mine get bigger.
I stroke your cheek,
Your eyes close.

“I love you too”
You say to me.
And,
“I promise I will forever.”
Your hands run through my hair,
And my eyes close.
Your lips on mine feel perfect.
So close to me
I don’t want you to leave that spot.

I say g’bye
You say it too.
I kiss you once more,
Walking away
.
.
.
Waving
.
.
.
Gone
.
.
.
“Until tomorrow my love,”
I say.
“I’ll whisper in your dreams.”

No Title, No Words

I know someone. . . She died. . . I heard about a best friend of mine who had been very close to her and he was taking it hard. I didn't know what to do but to show him I cared about him. He's a best friend and has been there through it all. . . I should do the same. . .
"
i am so sorry. When I was told I had no words. My jaw was open and flies buzzed in to look around. I don't know if I was told the correct reason for how she went but I don't even want to say it because I couldn't even believe that. I know you're taking it hard and that was what I DID believe when I heard it. I don't know what it would feel like to lose someone that had and probably still WAS really close to you. . .
I don't want to know. . .
Sorry does not cover the giant cut you've been given. . .
but besides that all I can do is offer my condolences (if that's the right word) and a hug when I see you. . .
But I'll say sorry because I feel I should. . . And I mean it. "

You're like a brother to me man. . . I'm gonna make sure you're ok.

*Prison Cell Shuts*

I hear it slam on me on my last night as I'm driving home. I barely feel conscious, not from being tired but from just the sheer dream-like quality I feel. I don't want this to happen but I brought it on myself. I turn each corner and can feel it in my muscles on my right shoulder, from it being dislocated. At least something will heal soon. . . Wish I could say the same for my pride. . . Replaced by shame, the hits I take figuratively because everyone wants a chance to tell me what a stupid thing I did.
Except one. . . One person takes no shots. . . And I love her for that.
As my thirty days had drawn near I saw her as much as I could. On the first day of my suspension she got to take me out and see me again. As I was brought back, I told her all I think she should know, in case I didn't get to see her for a while.
She doesn't think- she knows- this will all be ok. So I hold onto that notion. . . Like a convict with a letter from his daughter with shaky letters; I'll grip it tight 'till my knuckles turn white and I'm long gone in my grave.

30 Days

It has begun. . . My thirty days of being at home. All I know that there is to do is school, work and laying on my bed. I don't know what will happen but I do know my jail cell has green walls, black curtains and a bed to small. . .
*sigh*
here we go

Dislocation. . .

My title says a lot folks so this one'll be short.
I'm losing my license remember? So I wanted a couple days where I could give my girlfriend a couple days for just us. But as it was, Homecoming was coming up so I wanted to take her. We went. . . I tried to be calm even though my mom was upset because I'd spent 20 on a tie but I didn't care, the night was not about me.
I tried to break out of my little shy shell that I ge when I dance but it takes a while. . . so to jump start it I asked my girlfriend to kiss me. . . hard. *smiles*
I cart-wheeled and did something like a backflip. I started dancing at least.
It was when I tried it again that I twisted my arm wrong that my shoulder came out of place. . .
I don't know what else there is to say. . .
It hurt so bad, they put me under and put it back in and now my girl blames herself. . . but I see it as my own stupidity . . .I'm so sorry I ruined your night babe. :( I WILL make it up to you I PROMISE.

Dazed and Confused

SO, in the state I live, I don't know about other ones but at least mine, has this policy. If you are caught speeding 15-29 mph over the speed limit within the first two years of having your license a couple things happen.
1)You pay a fine (around $263)
2)You ge a notice in the mail saying you must send in you license for 30 days and pay $50
3) if you try to get a work/school permit so you can drive. . . you're screwed my friend. . . You are offically in MY boat.
I now must move back into the nest I fought so hard in getting out of for thirty days, starting septemtber thirtieth until the end of October and cannot drive until my license shows up again in the mail.
why?. . .
Why does the DMV hate me so much? Is it because I got my license firt try?. . .
I think it kind of is. . .
And maybe a little bit with going down a road that should be 25 and you're flying at 53. . . hehe oops. . . Sorry Mr. Cop :[

FREAKED OUT!!!

So I'm sitting on my couch in my own place, I get a phone call and I answer it. As I finish saying hello I hear rustling from my room. I start to get scared. My heart goes crazy. SOME ONE IS IN MY HOUSE!! O_O
I tell the caller I'll be right back. I silently go into my room and feel like an idiot for my only weapon (my louisville lugger) is under my bed. I flick on the light and quickly look around the corner to find. . .
A CAT!!! -_^
She has snuck in through my window which has no screen and decided to have a look around. She left that night, came back and left again. . .now she visits here and there. I have an unofficial roomate and new friend.
.
.
imagine that.

4 More Years!

I feel like a freshmen all over again. . . but I know it'll be different because I won't have pennies chucked at my head while people tell me I have four more years of school left. *sigh* But all I know I can do is charge ahead with my smile that many say is cheery and try my damndest and that is what I plan to do.
*Walks ahead and around the corner. . .walks back. . .*
Starting tomorrow. . .
-_-

don't judge. . .

Wait. . . It's MINE?

I look around me and all I can say is mine. Yes other words come to mind but for the most part that is the most frequent to pass through my mouth and my thoughts right now. It is all mine. MY stove, MY t.v, MY room and MY own place. . .
It scares me a bit but I don't think I want to change it. I may be scared at points but I feel like I made the right choice in having my own place. I make my own choices (and sometimes that may not be good, like my food) but they are mine and if it is a mistake then I must learn from it quickly. I think I learn best by doing.
I'll learn to live on my own, at my own pace now, and I can learn while doing it.
*breathes* so. . .
here we go. . .

Bearing the Load

I stand in the middle of the disaster that was my room and look around:

Posters are in the trash bag and rolled up if I wanted them; My guitar is sitting on the floor and not on my wall; my desk is gone and loaded up, my bed is littered with menial things from clothing to boxes filled with even more odd items; lastly I see the boxes at my feet, closed and ready to be entered into a vehicle to be shipped to my own place.

I sigh and am happy at the idea I've gotten this much work done. But as I look around again I can't help but think. . .
(Am I really doing this?)
I know the answer is Hell yes. I'm 18 and I may not know if I'm ready to be on my own. . . I feel like. . . It's either time to grow up or quit dreaming. "You ok babe?" my girlfriend says from behind me, one hand on my shoulder. I sighed and smiled at the thought in my head. (I ain't ready to stop dreamin')
"Yeah. . .Jus'. . . can't belive I'm doing this." She nods as I put an arms around her waist and kiss her cheek.
(I wouldn't change anything. . .)

The Biggest Weight and it's the Smallest Thing

I've not looked at the items in my left pocket today, since I got them. They've sat there inside my pocket and felt so heavy. The item being so small, it doesn't take up my palm, it shouldn't be so heavy. It isn't heavy at all but it feels like a burden, a responsibility of massive proportions.
It's what I want. . .
I wanted this, I really did.
But why can I not look at the keys that will open the door to my future?
.
.
.
They keys to my new apartment?

A taste of one of my stories

I saw her on the steps, lying down. "Rosaline?" I walked faster. She didn't look like she was moving. "Rosaline!" I ran to her side and tried to find what was wrong. Wait. . .vampire. .. I opened one of her eyes and saw the iris had turned black and there were too many veins around the eyes. I looked at her teeth and the fangs were sticking out. "My god, Rosaline when did you last feed?" I asked her, knowing I wouldn't get a repsonse. I took out my pocket knife and poked open my neck, I sat her up and put some of my blood on her lips. "Come on. . . you need it Rosaline."
if you would like to read more go to:

www,dungeonkeepersdomain.com
look for the story
fallen from grace

Life Update

I've graduated high school, I know I covered that. Ummmmm. . .
I'm going to college at &*( because I can't afford the one I want but that's ok. I can live with that.) I'm also moving out of my GOD DAMN HOUSE!!!
*jumps up and screams* YES!!
My mother is old fashioned. . .like so old fashioned, when I was fifteen I wasn;t aloud to walk around a small fair by myself (actually I NEVER have and I'm 18. . .), and believe to wait for sex until you're at least 18. I did. . .just happens that my girlfriend was not (17). . .that was a bad day when she found out that. It still is. . .
Back to what is more important.
MY OWN PLACE!!! It's a good size rooming, and pretty low in rent, plus a small bill for electricity.
But my favorite and scariest part is knowing I'm going to be alone. . .
O.O
But I gotta grow up and I got to do it now. . .
So here we go. . .

Driven to God Knows What. . .

I have people in love with me and I only love the one. . .
What FUCK do you do with that?
Explanation(names have been changed to protect identites):
When a friend I have ignores me, I'm used to it and it doesn't bother me. I pretty much twiddle my thumbs until something goes wrong and they tell me thinking I won't say anything(and they're right I won't).
I have one (I'm guessing):
Tess,
she's dating some guy (name not going to be mentioned) and she's leaving the country, she's deppressed and feeling like she wants to hide form the world and if someone wants her they'll find her. What she DOESN'T get, is that fact that it's so damn hard to do just that. The world intrudes on everything. You have school, teachers who will ask you questions and the students who'll judge you based on it even if all you said was "yes". She wonders why she dates such messed up people. Truth be told I don't know, I'm guessing it's either how she finds them how something in her head, subconcious (if you know I mean you, confront me and tell me I'm wrong, or anything. I know I'm kinda being mean with this and I'm sorry.)
Blake,
Is my best guy friend 2nd only to one other (not need mentioning) except. . .
yup, he loves me too. . .only thing is. . .
I'M NOT GAY.
and he can't seem to move on and no one is as "great as me" which I don't get but what can I do? Tell him go stalk some one else? He's been there for me through a lot and he makes me smile like crazy when we're both happy. *shrug* I've told him I can't change that part of me, nor will I because I dont want to hurt the one I love. . .
Marissa,
I've been dating her for. . . 4 months to the day!
And I already do not see life without her. . .yes I fall in love fast but that's me.
I don't see why I need to have a separate life from her, I think of a couple as "you invite you, you get the other as bonus prize!" kinda thing.
Babe if you're reading this I love you, don't change a thing about you. We may say things the other doesn't like, we may have flaws we hate about ourselves but to me you're perfect in every way, and you have my heart <3
All three I feel differently towards.
Blake, the best friend who can't get over me and wants to die from wanting what he can't have.
Tess, the "sister" friend who has a crush, and is upset, wanting to disapear, not realizing it hurts me knowing she doesn't see sh'es hurting me.
and Marrissa, the girl who I love and never want to see hurt and harmed ever and who feels the same over me.
What they do to me is fucked up in a lot of ways. I'd say I'm driven to drink but I don't, I haven't been driven to smoking.
.
.
.
But about ready to pull out some hair to some of them and say
"I'M TRYING TO BE HAPPY, WHY CAN'T YOU BE HAPPY FOR ME???? WHY CAN'T I HAVE PROBLEMS TO VOICE? WHY CAN'T PEOPLE REALIZE I'M GREAT UNTIL THEY TELL ME HOW FUCKED UP THEIR LIFE IS?!?!?!?" *breathes to catch breath*
I know it sounds mean. . .but I wanna be happy to guys. . .
I have someone who does that. . . if you cared about me the way you say you do. . .
then why not be happy that I am?

Cleverly Placed

Sitting. . .actually standing in the pool, on the side, holding on with my tired arms. I looked around me and keep thinking. . ."This is not Valentine's Day! Why are they're so many god Damn COUPLES?!?!?!?"
I see all my cousins, my sister, my grandparents and even my dad and stepmom. I look around at how happy they all are spending time with everyone that's here, and especially each other. I can see love everywhere and it makes me miss my girl. Mine is away at a program and I can do nothing but sit here and watch. I try to be happy and I find myself cleverly placed on the sidelines, thinking I'm helping by passing out water (so to speak)
I'm gonna see if standing up can change that, show them I wanna play with the family and not here alone.

Wonder What's Next

Ever wish you had a time machine? I don't know why but I was sitting here, get ready to eat lunch, when my friend pops up in an instant message saying he oculdn't believe it was one o'clock. I hadn't thought it a big deal. He told me he felt like he had just looked at the clock.
Right then he said it felt like a jmup in time. And my head went off on a tangent (happens a lot) about what it would be like to know what I would be like when I was older. I wanted to know how many kids I would have, how I would be as a father (I worry sometimes I wouldn't be good at it, I know it's probably over nothing but still). I wanted to know if I'd make it as a writer, or if none of my stories would seel and I'd be stuck working at Hannaford. . .
I just wanted to know my life would end well. . .
But hey. . .
I should be living in the present :)
I'll worry about all of that when it comes around.
Till next time folks.

Precious Present by: Spencer Johnson (not mine, but a very nice story)

Once there was a boy. . . . Who listened to an old man. And, thus, he began to learn about The Precious Present. "It is a present because it is a gift," the contented man explained. "And it is precious because anyone who receives such a present is happy forever."
"Wow!" the little boy exclaimed. "I hope someone give me The Precious Present. Maybe I'll get it for Christmas." The boy ran off to play. And the old man smiled. He liked to watch the little boy play. He saw the smile on the youngster's face and heard him laughing as he swung from a nearby tree. The boy was happy. And it was a joy to see.
The old man also liked to watch the boy work. He even rose early on Saturday mornings to watch the little laborer mow the lawn across the street. The boy actually whistled while he worked. The little child was happy no matter what he was doing. It was, indeed, a joy to behold.
When he thought about what the old man had said, the boy thought he understood. He knew about presents. Like the bicycle he got for his birthday and the gifts he found under the tree on Christmas morning. But as the boy thought more about it, he knew. The joy of toys never lasts forever.
The boy began to feel uneasy. "What then," he wondered, "is The Precious Present? What could possibly make me happy forever?" He found it difficult to even imagine the answer. And so he returned to ask the old man.
"Is the Present a magical ring? One that I might put on my finger and make all my wishes come true?"
"No," the old man said. "The precious present has nothing to do with wishing."
As the boy grew older he continued to wonder. He went to the old man. "Is the Precious Present a flying carpet?" he inquired. "One that I could get on and go any place that I like?"
"No," the man quietly replied. "When you have the precious present, you will be perfectly content to be where you are."
The boy was becoming a young man now, and felt a bit foolish for asking. But he was uncomfortable. He began to see that he was not achieving what he wanted. "Is the Precious Present," he slowly ventured, "a sunken treasure? Perhaps rare gold coins buried by pirates long ago?"
"No, young man," the old man told him. "It is not. The richness is rare, indeed, but the wealth of the Present comes only from itself."
The young man thought for a moment. Then he became annoyed. "You told me," the young man said, "that anyone who receives such a present would be happy forever. I never got such a gift as a child."
"I'm afraid you don't understand," the old man responded. "You already know what the Precious Present is. You already know where to find it. And you already know how it can make you happy. You knew it best when you were a small child. You simply have forgotten."
The young man went away to think. But as time passed, he became frustrated, and finally angry. He eventually confronted the old man. "If you want me to be happy," the young man shouted, "why don't you just tell me what the Precious Present is?"
"And where to find it?" the old man volleyed.
"Yes, exactly," the young man demanded.
"I would like to," the old man began. "But I do not have such power. No one does. Only you have the power to make yourself happy. Only you. The Precious Present isn't something that someone gives you. It's a gift that you give yourself."
The young man was confused, but determined. He resolved to find the Precious Present himself. And so he packed his bags. He left where he was. And went elsewhere. To look for the Precious Present.
After many frustrating years, the man grew tired of looking for the Precious Present. He had read all the latest books. And he had looked in The Wall Street Journal. He had looked into the mirror. And into the faces of other people. He had wanted so much to find the Precious Present. He had gone to extraordinary lengths. He had looked for it at the tops of mountains and in cold dark caves. He had searched for it in dense, humid jungles. And underneath the seas. But it was all to no avail. His stressful search had exhausted him. He even became ill occasionally. But he did not know why.
The man returned wearily to the old man's side. The old man was happy to see him. They often laughed out loud together. The young man liked to be with the old man. He felt happy in his presence. He guessed that this was because the old man felt happy with himself. It wasn't that the old man's life was so trouble-free. He didn't appear to have a lot of money. He seemed to be alone most of the time. In fact, there was no apparent reason why he was so much happier and healthier than most people were. But happy he was. And so were those who spent time with him. "Why does it feel so good to be with him?" the young man wondered. "Why?" He left wondering.
After many years, the once-young man returned to inquire further. He was now very unhappy and often ill. He needed to talk with the old man. But the old man had grown very, very old. And, all too soon, he spoke no more. The wise voice could no longer be heard.
The man was alone. At first, he was saddened by the loss of his old friend. And then he became frightened. Very frightened. He was afraid that he would never learn how to be happy. Until finally he accepted what had always been true. He was the only one who could find his own happiness. The unhappy man recalled what the happy old man had told him so many years ago. But as hard as he tried he could not figure it out; he tried to understand what he had heard:
THE PRESENT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH WISHING…. WHEN YOU HAVE THE PRESENT YOU WILL BE PERFECTLY CONTENT TO BE WHERE YOU ARE…. THE RICHNESS OF THE PRESENT COMES FROM ITS OWN SOURCE…. THE PRESENT IS NOT SOMETHING THAT SOMEONE GIVES YOU…. IT IS SOMETHING THAT YOU GIVE TO YOURSELF. . . .
The unhappy man was now tired of looking for the Precious Present. He had grown so tired of trying that he simply stopped trying. And then, it happened! He didn't know why it happened when it happened. It just…. Happened! He realized that the Precious Present was just that: THE PRESENT. Not the past; and not the future, but THE PRECIOUS PRESENT.
In an instant the man was happy. He realized that he was in the Precious Present. He raised both hands triumphantly into the cool, fresh air. He was joyous--for one moment. But then, just as quickly as he had discovered it, he let the joy of the present moment evaporate. He slowly lowered his hands, touched his forehead, and frowned. The man was unhappy--again.
"Why," he asked himself, "didn't I see the obvious long ago? Why have I missed so many precious moments?" "Why has it taken me so long to live in the present?" As the man remembered his fruitless travels around the world in his search for the Precious Present, he knew how much happiness he had lost.
He had not experienced what each special time and place had to offer. He had missed a great deal. And he felt sad. The man continued to berate himself. And then he saw what he was doing. He observed that he was trapped by his guilt about his past.
When he became aware of his unhappiness and of his being in the past, he returned to the present moment. And he was happy. But then the man began to worry about the future. "Will I," he asked, "be able to know the joy of living in the Precious Present tomorrow?" Then he saw he was living in the future and laughed--at himself.
He listened to what he now knew. And he heard the wisdom of his own voice. "It is wise for me to think about the past and to learn from it, but it is not wise for me to be in the past, for that is how I lose myself.
"It is also wise for me to think about the future, and to prepare for my future, but it is not wise for me to be in the future, for that, too, is how I lose myself. I lose what is precious to me."
It was so simple. And now he saw it. The present nourished him. But the man knew it was not going to be easy. Learning to be in the present was a process he was going to have to do over and over, again and again, until it became a part of him. Now he knew why he had enjoyed being with the old man.
The old man was totally present when he was with the younger man. The old man was not thinking about something else or wishing that he was somewhere else. He was fully present. And it felt good to be with such a person. The younger man smiled at himself, the way the old man used to smile. He knew. "I can choose to be happy now, or I can try to be happy when. . . or if. . . ."
The man chose NOW! And now the man was happy. He felt at peace with himself. He agreed to savor each moment in his life…. The apparently good and the apparently bad…. Even if he didn't understand. For the first time in his life, it didn't matter. He accepted each of his precious moments on this planet as a gift.
"I know that some people choose to receive the Precious Present when they are young, others in middle age, and some when they are old. Some people, sadly, never do. I can choose to receive the Precious Present whenever I want."
As the man sat thinking, he felt fortunate. He was whom he was where he was. And now he knew! He would always be whom he was where he was.
He listened again to his thoughts. "The present is what it is. It is valuable. Even I do not know why. It is already just the way it is supposed to be. When I see the present, accept the present, and experience the present, I am well, and I am happy. Pain is simply the difference between what is and what I want it to be.
"When I feel guilty over my imperfect past, or I am anxious over my unknown future, I do not live in the present. I experience pain. I make myself ill. And I am unhappy.
"My past was the present. And my future will be the present. The present moment is the only reality I ever experience.
"As long as I continue to stay in the present, I am happy forever, because forever is always the present.
"The present is simply who I am, just the way I am, right now. And it is precious. I am precious. I am the Precious Present."
It was as though he could hear the old man talking. And then he smiled. And his smile widened. And he laughed. He felt great joy. He knew he was listening, not to the old man…. But to himself.
It felt good for him to be with himself--just the way he was. He felt he knew enough. He felt he had enough. He felt he was enough. Now.
He had finally found the Precious Present. And he was completely happy.
Several decades later, the man had grown into a happy, prosperous, and healthy old man. One day a little girl came by to talk to him. She liked to listen to "the old man," as she called him. It was fun to be with him. There was something special about him. But she didn't know what it was.
One day, the little girl began to really listen to the old man. Somehow she sensed something important in his calm voice. He seemed very happy. The little girl couldn't understand why. "How could someone so old," she wondered, "be so happy?" She asked and the old man told her why.
Then all of a sudden, the little girl jumped up and squealed with delight! As the girl ran off to play, the old man smiled. For he heard what she had said: "Wow!" she exclaimed. "I hope someday someone gives me the Precious Present!"

Balanced Equation

Tomorrow is the day I go on a trip to see the one and only girl in my life (that isn't blood related). I'm excited, scared, anxious and nervous all in one. I almost can't wait but I know I have to. I know it will make me so happy, happier tomorrow then I have been since she left. But I know that afterwards I'm going to miss her even more, because I've seen her and won't be able to once again, hold her in my arms for a while. But I know it will help, making time appear faster.
The countdown to when she can be with me constantly again.
A balanced equation of nerves and anxious-little-boy-at-Christmas-time feeling.
As long as I see her tomorrow. . .
I know the day will be amazingly phenomenal.

Tears

Tears should not EVER fall from these eyes of hers. No one should be able to make the girl I care so much about, cry. . .ever. . . period.
In my mind I go from sorrow to nothing, to the feeling of finding everyone who has put her in this state and crushing them. My hands don't shake as I think any of this. I am bound and determined, my path is set. . . Yet I know I cannot.
So I sit here, listening to heavy breathing, and tears hitting the receiver of the phone, in the hand of the one I care most about.
I don't know what to do to help her. And that hurts just as bad as knowing she's in pain.
"I jus' wanna go home." She tells me.

I'd make any of her dreams come true in an instant if I could. . .
Especially this one. . .

. . .\/.\/....

My head hurts tonight. I have a certain amount of everything that I need for a good day. I need to have a certain amount of sugar (from soda and junk food or chocolate), I need to relax, and I need that special someone, wether it be hanging out, texting or talking on the phone.
Doesn't matter if the soda's warm, the chocolate makes me feel funny or if my conversation isn't happy, if all of those things happen it'd still be a good day.
But. . .
I don't get as much time with my girlfriend as I would like. . . so because of that. . .
I'm upping my sugar intake and doing very little.
I don't know what to do with her gone.
I miss her. . .
There I said it. . .
But it doesn't change anything.
She's not in my arms until July 17th the day of a trip. She can't come home and miss this program because it's such a good one. . .
I hold out for her. . .
Because she's worth it. . .
Because it means the world to her that I do,
because she's my world.

Trickster has Discovered Atlantis

I found it, the great under water Utopia. . .
And it's my pool.
It was cold at first but by the end I made myself believe to get out of the pool I would have to enter the water. Once I did, I just about did not want to get out. I sat there cleaning it for a bit but then. . .
I just stopped. It still contained pine needles from nearby trees but I remembered how much I loved the quiet underwater feel. I held my breath and dropped in the water once more. As I listened I heard absolutely nothing. No one screaming at me. No one sharing their problems that I couldn't help them with, nothing, but the sound of moving water and my heart.
I went to the top and layed flat, practicing keeping myself up. I sat there breathing and listening to my heart. It's amazing how aware you are of them both when that's all you hear. I dropped in the water once again, saying good bye to my paradise.
I came up and I could still feel my heart, still hear my breathing rather strongly. . .
Over birds, animals, traffic and the motor to the pool filter.
But I felt calm.
Like I had discovered some great secret, solved my problems and now I was at peace.
I'm ok with everything right now. . .
and I'm loving my piece of Atlantis.

*Sigh*

Ever enter that state of mind where your exhausted? But your body isn't? You want to fall asleep but you know you won't for hours. That's what I'm in. For the last couple of days (. . .six days to be exact) I've had it. I won't go to bed until around three in the morning, until I literally can't keep my eyes open and within 15 minutes I am out until 9:30-10:00, I get up, eat lunch at 11 and go to work if I'm supposed. NOthing is wrong with my life style, I just don't like it. I hate being up so late but it helps me sleep. I don't want to toss and turn for hours.
So I lay here in my bed, voicing my troubles and waiting for my body to finally feel what my mind is screaming at it. . .
Wish me luck. . .

In the Past

I graduated today. I climbed from bed with a starving stomach and the butterflies wanting something too. I went through steps of getting ready and making sure the barbecue afterwards would go well.
As I sat there with my other class members, every one kept saying to be yourself. I couldn't help but look down at my red gown and think this isn't what I normally wear folks. But I digress ;). My gaze finally moved to my hands.
I saw old scars whether they be from something trivial like a broom handle when fighting for it with my father, or as serious as a recent knife cut because I was an idiot and cut towards myself.
*shakes head*
whether it was a scratch from work or a white line from playing quarters during driver's ED they all looked foreign. None of it looked like me. Until I looked at my ring, took it off my finger a bit and saw the white flesh underneath because of how much I had worn it.
I don't know why but it made me smile. I think it was because it was the one piece of jewelry or clothing that would last me this long. It had stuck through relationships, beating at work and being pounded on by accidentally hitting a wall.
I wanted to be like that I guess. . .
forever the same, never changing. . .
and there when needed. . .
Today I took a small walk across a stage, yet it meant more than that. It meant a step into more of an adult, it meant more homework, it meant new friends and less of seeing family.
It mean so much that I don't even know.
All I know is it's over, people are proud I've made it this far in my life and. . .
I am too.
Thank you for all those who have been there for me and will keep doing so.
You have no idea what it means to me. . . really :)
thank you.

Ghost at Graduation

Something supernatural happened tonight, and no one knew it.
Tonight was a graduatuion at a small town high school known as Bucksport High. The some odd hundred or so graduates had a visitor, for two hours they did not see coming.
I went as well. I sat down with everyone and listened to speech after speech of how people were grown up. But how could they know that when they were only 18? If anyone knows anything it is NOT at 18. I thought of how this wuould have been MY class, I would have walked those halls, talked to those people and dated the students if not for the move I had in 4th grade.
At last they handed out diplomas and when the person I went there to see, my cousin Scotty, got his I clapped hard and loud for him and longer for the friends I knew around him.
After it was over I said congrats and tried to show him how happy I was he'd made it this far with me, the next step in a life I hoped we saw the end of together, I left him to his friends that I no longer knew and to a party meant for the Buck's.
At 5:50 a ghost arrived.
Dressed in a striped white and brown polo with tan pants, a senior class ring, couple of bracelets and a black and white bandana tied around the left wrist.
It sat down among others who were there to see family and friends.
As the graduation went on it clapped at the right points, cheered for friend and though of the meanings behind the speeches.
After the students. . .or alumni. . .had their diplomas it went around saying hi to those it knew. Some say they saw it.
A cold shiver ran down a spine or two and one said good bye as it left.
At 8:30 it walked out, a lonely straggler, one of few there still.
It had looked back at the school that it never had a chance to know. It looked back at the people who would have said goodbye to him if he had graduated with it's Alumni, but this was not it's home.
It later spotted a flashing light. People had been pulled over for speeding.
But it imagined the happy grads so excited and not paying attention as they flew off the road into a ditch.
It knew that this moment of graduation was a small step, a pictured memory for those close to you but not for you at all. It showed a growth in you, small but there.
And this ghost who stayed for two hours, who left with everyone else and wasn't truly seen. . .
was me.
But I love where I am i my life and would not change ONE MOMENT. . .
sitting at the table with my mother and sister deciding if we should move. . .
I wouldn't have said " I dunno know."
I should have smiled welcomed the life I have now and said yes.
But I'll be glad with what''s here now and not dwell on the past.

I'm on wings

Yesterday was barely anything special. It was just another rainy day until I was able to see my girlfriend. She was visiting her grandparents but they said I could go over anyways. Talking to my mom and granted I finished my errands she said I could go.
I rushed over in the beast my mom says is the blazer (my own car still being fixed after her wanting to be a racecar. Getting there we play pool, watch T.V. play some more, talk, play skip-bo with her grandmother, have dinner and an amazing chocolate pie with a thin layer a peanut butter.
(one other thing I'll keep to myself for. . . personal reason. . .)
and for some reason, all of these things led to a day where I never stopped smiling. I didn't stopped enjoying myself (though I was beaten thoroughly at pool and skip-bo by my date. . .)
I'll never forget yesterday. . .
It was to perfect. . .

Please daddy please!!!

so I'm driving home from my father's house. (My parents are divorced but I don't mind, means to of every holiday! XD) My sister is in the seat beside me and we took my car, we named her Scout because she's kind of a boyish looking car but you know it's still a girl. She'd been acting funny lately, engine light on, hesitating to go when i put my foot on the gas and such; but, i go around a turn and all of a sudden out of nowhere she starts rumbling!
I freak out, not knowing what to think and scared almost shitless I take her off to the side of the road and try to see if she'll come out of the noise. After a couple of times reving her up in park, she doesn't. I flip out. Dani, my sister and the responsible one calls our mom.
I go for a walk down the road to see if I hit anything and to cool off because of how upset I am. I end up calling my girlfriend to tell her happened.
David, my stepfather shows up and tells me to start the car so I do. The noise continuing David says the engine is fine but it's the exhaust. Part of the piping to the muffler broke off, so it was louder but she was fine.
"Looks like she wanted to be a racecar." Dani says.
I can almost hear my car asking me if she can.
No, no you can't i say to myself. I drive home and each time she starts up, it's a back massage.
She's SO gonna get it. . .

Nervous Breath

High school graduation is right around the corner.
*Peeks and takes a breath*
I can't help but be nervous. I'm leaving the safety of my home, learning how to pay bills, going to college with no one looking over my shoulder (which I both hate and love) and I'm going to be away from all of my friends.
I don't know how I'll handle it.
I don't know if I'll crash and burn.
I don't know if I'll do well and love it.
I dion't know if any combo of thins will happen.
All I can do is keep walking, keep moving and hope it turns out all right. What else is there? What else can I do but hope for the best and try my damn hardest.