Does true love even exist?

SLAM

So I went to SFYS on thursday night, and I wrote down some lines that I really liked. I'm (sorry I don't have the names of who said these, but everyone who presented was great)

"Crescent moon stories are better than no stories"

"Why do I feel claustrophobic in my own skin"

"Nothing is promised in life except for death"

"Nothing will haunt you more than letting yourself die"

"Caged birds don't sing"

"Broken things are never truly fixed"

"God had you in mind when he created the songbirds"

Kenzie Peterson-every line of hers gave me new goosebumps

How to Be Happy

hello.
how do I put this...
*sigh*
. . .
look, you can't just be happy. There is no "How To" on just being happy.

My mind keeps wandering to Jonathon Ellis. He comitted suicide last night, and even though I didn't know him, I still feel...sad. Depressed. I am still grieving. I'm still grieving. In still grieving over the suicides from two years ago and the chain reaction; that chain reaction that set something off inside me. Its the same reaction I feel when I think of Jaiden.

When I think of her, and her cuts, and how she is still cutting even though she said she wouldn't, and her blood flowing from her wrists on to the grimy bathroom floor

The same reaction I feel when I think of how happy she seemed over spring break.

Because the kids who seem the happiest are often the ones that cry themselves to sleep every night.

Because Johnathon seemed happy, and everyone said he was always smiling. Because he killed himself last night. Because you can't just BE HAPPY. You have to find it. 

THINGS THAT MAKE ME JEALOUS

THE LOVE FROM THE NOTEBOOK
BEING A TWIN
LIVING IN CARLSBAD
OTHER PEOPLE'S ARTWORK
SURFERS
HOW BEING KIND COMES SO EASILY TO MY SISTER AND NOT TO ME
PATIENCE
A TURTLE NAMED SHELLY
PARIS
OTHER PEOPLE'S BLOG POSTS (AHHEM DICK TIDROW, ESTHER GREENEWOOD, AND THE DEVESTATION DIARIES)
MY MOMS COOKING-I WILL NEVER BE AS GOOD AS HER
THE GIRLS SOCCOR TEAM...I SHOULD'VE TRIED OUT
PEOPLE WITH PET DOGS
HOW NELSON IS SO FUNNY
HEAVY SLEEPERS

A fat man sat on me

jealousy

The Rider
By: Naomi Shihab Nye
(East 7)

This poem was really simple, but its still worth reading. The beginning starts out,

" a boy told me if he roller-skated fast enough, his loneliness couldn't catch up to him, the best reason I ever heard for trying to be a champion."

This whole part made me jealous. It just really stood out to me. Maybe its because I find myself saying the same thing,. But I've never thought of myself as a champion. So then I was thinking about champions, and how we usually root for the one we like the best, because maybe we have the most in common.

She goes on to say, " what I wonder tonight pedaling hard down king William street is if it translates to bicycles"

we are all trying to escape something, whether its loneliness, abandonment, maybe even graduation? We all have something that we are running away from.

At the end she wrote, "a victory! To leave your loneliness panting behind you..."

This is like that moment when you are finally free. When you have finally moved on or left it behind, or forgotten.

and it is a victory.

"mom..."
"honey, just be yourself"
"but that's hard to do..."

I can't be myself when everyone around me is constantly changing into someone I don't even recognize.

I am standing on a patch of ice, and the ice is starting to melt. The ice around me keep breaking off and sailing away, floating farther and farther across the sea. The only piece of ice I recognize is the one I am standing on. But even that is uneven ground, and I'm not sure I can keep my balance much longer.

I don't know who to trust anymore. Who was once my good friend is now stabbing backs and ruining relationships. My cousin, who was always so strong has broken, and is now watching her blood flow from her wrists to the bathroom floor. I am back on the ice and I have fallen. I can't think straight. Who am i who am i who am i. Everyones lives are falling apart when mine is just beginning and I feel like I don't know anything anymore. I don't know what to do. I don't how to act. I don't know why i am pretending to be so confident when really I am so confused.

But then I look up and I see the moon. It is constant. At least for tonight.

My Space Jam

I wake up feeling like my life's worth living, even though sometimes I can't bring myself to actually get out of bed. Even though we all have those days. Even though mine seem to be increasing with my age.

I know I talk a lot about the beach, and California, and old memories, but those were the days when I really felt alive. The moments when act scores and colleges and money had no effects on me. The times when what I looked like, and who my friends were, and what religion I was didn't only define who I was. Those were the times I was truly happy. 

Happiness is what I strive to live for. Happiness is what gets me out of bed in the morning...eventually. Happiness is my space jam. Along with the smell of surf wax.

Insignificance

Why does it feel like I am a tourist?

I promise I am not, but for some reason everything I do feels like just another picture of the same building. Whoa-that sounded weird, I mean... Why do I feel like everything I create isn't worth repeating, or looking at again? Why do I feel so insecure when I don't have any comments? 

Sometimes I don't feel like I should be in this class. I am not broken in the ways that everyone else is. 

I'm afraid of trying my hardest and it never being enough. I'm scared that doing my best, will be the same as somebody else's worst. I hope this never happens, but I feel like it already is. Because after reading something like dick tidrow and the devastation diaries, I wonder why I even thought I had a chance. 

But I have to at least try. 

To: Death,

If I ever get to meet you, face to face, I would not be scared-I am not scared of dying. I just wonder...

Do you like your job?

Do you like stealing away the hearts and souls of so many innocent victims? Do you enjoy turning warm hearts, cold and lifeless? What's it like to look into a persons eyes, and watch them go colorless? Do you ever get tired of taking. Do you wonder what it would be like to give? 

What's it going to be like when we finally get to meet?

Are you going to smile? Are you going to cry? Are you going to laugh as you reach into my body and steal away my time? Or will you look back on my past. Will you soak up the nostalgia and feel every moment felt-every bit of sorrow, bitterness, grief, pain, love happiness, joy and fear as you feel my heart take its last dying beat? Will you laugh as you uncover all my embarrassing moments, and will you cry when you discover how happy I was, and how it's all coming to an end? Or will you envy me. Will you wonder what it's like to live, because you will never know? Will you envy my life over yours, and wonder what it would've been like if you had gotten the same chance at life, the same chance that your so willingly able to steal away? Do you ever get tired of taking. Do you wonder what it would be like to give?

Until then, 
Llacie Paige 

To Do: Sometime in my life...

• Travel on an airplane
• Go windsurfing 
• Save a life
• Bellyflop into a pool just because I want to
• Do a flip on a trampoline (pathetic...I know)
• Bike ride on a two person bike
• Hike to a waterfall
• Sail on a sailboat
• Own a dog
• Go surfing in Hawaii 
• Meet someone famous
• Go to a concert
• Fall in love
• Go to Paris, France and try a macaroon
• Find a starfish
• Find a sand dollar
• Go to Switzerland

And millions of other things that I can't list off the top of my head...

My Biggest Fears...

Im afraid of outer space. I'm afraid of that feeling you get when you look straight up at night, and your suddenly engulfed by the giant unknown. 

I'm afraid of heights - wait no, not heights. I'm afraid of what the world looks like from heights; just endless ground colliding with endless sky. I'm afraid of feeling negligible-too small to even take notice.

I'm afraid of the ocean - or the deep parts of the ocean. I'm afraid that one day I will drown, and nobody will even notice me drifting away.

I'm afraid of moving out. I'm afraid that I will always make the wrong decision, and never become who I am supposed to become. That I will never reach my full potential, let alone a potential worth living for. 

I'm afraid of love. I'm afraid that I will fall in love with the wrong person. I'm afraid that I will never find the 'right' person. I'm afraid that I will eventually fall out of love, or forget how to love, or just never find it. 

I'm afraid of spiders. I'm even more afraid of egg sacs. I'm afraid that an egg sac will hatch in my room or my bed or my shower, and there will be millions of baby spiders all over the place.

I'm afraid of birds pooping on my head. I don't know why...

I'm afraid of growing up, and loosing creativity, and becoming boring. I'm afraid that in ten years I will regret everything and become someone I can't even recognize.

"But nothing lasts forever and these days everyone's pictures are digital. Things can be erased. It can take years, it can take seconds"
-Harold Miner

Thrifty ice cream and yellow smoke bombs and broken buttons;

Sting rays and Canoes and early morning surfing lessons;

Tori pines and The Pedestrian Path and Kelly park;

Grape juice stains and corn on the cob and the taste of s'mores at midnight;

Raccoons and tents and perfect weathered nights;

These are my bricks. I am not complete without them, but I'm not whole with them. They are not broken, but each is cracked-filled with different memories and faces and smiles and tears. They build me up and form the hardened core that is my character.

Late Night Fights

My vision is blurred from holding back tears.  My thoughts are blurred as well. Emotions of anger, fear, hope and confusion smear together. I have become numb to the stabbing pain which accompanies each slam of their bedroom door. The only attention I have is focused on the garage door. I can only hope that this doesn't get that far, that this moment won't become the last...

Hope

I am a shadow of your reflection in the mirror

I am what shapes you into who you are

I will break you then teach you to get back up

I will hallow your soul and harden your character

I am what pushes you beyond the limit

I will never let you down

Sunburns, whoop-lash, and heart ache

Let's go back in time...

Lets go back to when popularity didn't matter

Back to when we did everything together

Back to when we rated the joggers jogging by on the sea wall 

Back to endless sunburns because we hated sun screen; back to when we created 'potions' in grandmas backyard; back to when we'd walk down the big hill to the little creek to catch crawdads; back to when we found that hut in Kelly park out of old palm leaves, and called it ours

Back to when we were still friends

Back to when we were inseparable...

Now it's all different. You've lost yourself in the endless lies of magazines and school rankings.  You have become swallowed up within your own sorrow, and you've secluded yourself from everything and everyone; including me

You forgot to come see me the last time I visited. You forgot the time before too.

Now I've had to sit alone in grandmas backyard for hours on end

I've had to find my own way out to the sea; I've had to walk the sea wall alone

I never understood why you just stopped. It was so sudden. I left you letters, I waited for you. 

I am still waiting...

I'm thinking about you. 
I'm thinking about you like some artists think about math homework.

I'm thinking about you like the puddles think about the sun. 

I'm thinking about you like vultures think about leftovers.

I'm thinking about you like the sun thinks about other stars. 

I'm thinking about you like night thinks about dawn, and dawn thinks about dusk. 

I'm thinking about you like dogs think about cats, and cats think about mice. 

I'm thinking about you like fire thinks about ice. 

This post isn't about love.
It's about r e v e n g e.

The truth about love

Love is a ticking time bomb.
Some days it explodes
Some days it just takes patience;
Some days there's just no spark;  

White crayons

I've recently heard that the only use for a white crayon is to use it as a mini torch.

A mini torch that blazes with fire. 

A fire that is filled with brilliant colors of red, yellow, and orange. A fire that runs rampant through anything in its path. Almost like a child.

A child that is running rampant through the halls while holding crayons, gently pushing them to the wall, creating a magnificent blend of red, yellow, and orange.

I miss this. I miss the endless hours of littlest pet shops, pretzels, and Zaboomafoo. I miss Pauba Valley Elementary School with the outdoor lunch tables, and the sound of the palm tree leaves swaying from side to side in the Santa Anna winds. I miss the ladybugs, sea gulls, and blue-bellied lizards. I miss the hot and sweaty soccer games, the dandelions, and the honey bees. I miss bath time. I miss the summer dried strawberries and peaches. I miss hating my bedtime. I miss my big backyard with the giant dirt hill and the big brown fence. I miss the old life. I miss the 'white crayons'.

One of those great songs you wish everyone could hear

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When your too in love to let it go
But if you never try then you'll never know
Just what your worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down your face 
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Fix you-Coldplay 

What is being human

Logistically humans are made up of five different elements: 

• 3% Nitrogen
• 10% Hydrogen
• 18% Carbon
• 65% Oxygen
• 4% others

But this isn't the only thing that makes a human a human...

Humans have souls. Humans feel. Humans think emotionally and strategically. Humans create. Humans problem solve. Humans learn new things. Humans cry. Humans laugh. Humans love. Humans aren't perfect. Humans  discover. Humans work hard. Humans learn from making mistakes. Humans have to learn to accept. Humans need to forgive. Humans make hard decisions. Humans take responsibility. Humans are unique. Humans work together. Humans aspire. Humans imagine. Humans have character. 

I'm only human

To Anonymous,
  I love you, I want you to know that. Sometimes though, I wonder if you really love me? Why? Because out of the few times I have ever heard you say it to me, it sounds repeated. It's sounds as if it's lost its meaning.
  I know that I can be hard to put up with sometimes, and I know that I overreact. But I promise I am trying. I am trying to be the perfect daughter. I am trying to get good grades. I am trying to do my best-I am trying to make you proud! But you don't even care. You don't even acknowledge me.
   I'm sorry that I am trying. I'm sorry that all of the hard work I have put into you noticing me has just gone to waste, because all you notice is that I haven't unloaded the dishwasher yet. I'm sorry that my best will never be enough. I'm sorry that I am imperfect, and all you see in me are my weaknesses. I'm sorry that I'm only human.

Who I am

I'm really bad at introductions, so here it goes...I guess:

I change my mind every five seconds.

I hate looking into mirrors, however every time I pass one I can't help but to look.

I can eat goldfish crackers forever.

I bite my lip when I'm nervous. 

I love the sun shining down on my face, and the feeling of sand between my toes.

I am deeply scared of outer space...Empty space. I never want to become empty space-I would rather be dead than empty.

I also have a fear of birds pooping on my head.

I love taking pictures; the idea that you can capture a moment forever.

I am really really really bad at math. 

I can't be myself at school.

I am often the girl that everyone looks through. 

I want to fit in, but I want to stand out. 

I want to be seen, and I want to be found.