Lets not ever stop wondering

Things I wonder:

1. I wonder what its like to make out, and what the heck you're supposed to do with your tongue.

2. What language do people think in who are born deaf?

3. I wonder why I think Mint Oreos taste healthier than regular Oreos.

4.  How long is Forever? (If you don't wonder that, you're not thinking hard enough.)

5. Why do I wait till I have no clean clothes before I do my laundry?

6.  I wonder if Jesus was married.

7.  I wonder why my father loved pornography more than he loved me.

8. Why do I hate the taste of water? And why does Diet Coke tastes so much better?

9.  I wonder if we can eat in heaven. I'd just like to know what Im signing up for.

10. I wonder what people really think about my writing. Not from a friends perspective, whose job is to compliment you, not from a teachers perspective whose job is to believe in you. I want to know from someone not bias.

11. Why do girls think its sexy to twerk? Its un-classy, and they look dumb when they do it.

12.  I wonder what its like to be so crazy in love, you can't imagine life without that person

13. I wonder about you. That's not new.

Some things we wonder, and never stop wondering. These things are magical, and full of mystery, and beauty. Sometimes when we wonder it motivates us to find the answer. I hope we get the answers we're looking for.

You, Me and the Rain.

You're my first love,
and believe me, I wish you weren't.
Not even the "ice in my vein" metaphors
describe how you make me feel.

I tried using the "heart on fire" one too
But that didn't even seem to fit
just exactly how you make me feel.
So maybe I try a new element

You make me feel like I'm in the rain.
I look at you and I smile.
All I want to is feel you on my skin.
Drench myself with your love till I cant fall anymore.

You make me feel I'm in the rain.
On a April afternoon
I'm at a picnic, And you've just ruined it.
You leave me cold and shivering, and heartbroken.

You make me feel like I'm in the rain.
I'm dancing in your laugh.
I wish you knew how to dance with me.
I guess this dance was only meant for one.

You make me feel like I'm in the rain
In a storm without an umbrella.
You hit me all at once, and it hurts.
You slide down my face in drops that look like tears.

You make me feel like I'm in the rain.
Wow you smell good.
I want to memorize your taste, and your rhythm.
Really I just want to know you.

You make me feel like I'm in the rain.
Stuck inside my room, watching you.
I'm waiting for a sign, for that rainbow.
I guess the rain doesn't even know when the clouds clear.

You're my first love, and believe me I wish you weren't.

Wear the Cape and Dream.

Have you ever been told to grow up? Or for those of us that are turning 18, have you ever felt like you're growing up way too fast? For me, time is passing way to quickly. I'm starting to grasp that in a few months, I will be moved out and having to provide for myself. I don't think I could be more scared, or feel less prepared. I'm growing up. I'm becoming what my parents molded me to be.


Even though I'm growing up, There's a lot in us that never actually grows up. There's a lot that doesn't HAVE to grow up with us.


I don't care how old I am, I will never be too old to go to Space-Camp.

I will never to be old to order Mac-N-cheese at a restaurant. (If you haven't tried it at Noodles and Company you're missing out.)

I will never be to old to have a Disney movie marathon. This includes singing loudly when "A Whole New World" Comes On.

Ill never be too old to play in the mud. 

Or take a nap.

I'll never be too old to dance in the rain.

I'll never be to old to still consider my mom as my hero.

Or to wear a cape and pretend I am a superhero.

I will never be to old to go on a spontaneous adventure.

Or drink from a twisty straw.

Mostly, I'll never be too old to dream.

What happened to us when we grew up? Why did we stop dreaming? We used to want to be a princess, or an astronaut, or The President of the United States. Now were adults, and although we realize that those dreams aren't likely to happen, why did we stop making new dreams? And why when we dream, do our dreams stay on a bucket list? They are written on a piece of notebook paper stuffed in a crowded drawer filled with To do lists and Bills. Why did we stop working for our dreams? 

In the end, we're not going to remember The to do lists, and the bills that had to be paid. Were going to remember our dreams, and what we really wanted out of life. Lets go back to space camp. Lets go back to a time where dreaming wasn't so far away. 

Bills will still have to be paid, we will still have to work. That's part of growing up, and its good. But somewhere in us, we all have that little kid wanting to still eat Mac-n-Cheese, to wear a cape, and to dream. 

Be a kid. Wear the cape. Make a dream.

 If it doesn't work, you can always make a new dream.

Your Argument is Invalid.

Things Ive learned from an entire year of classes:

 English

•  "I" before "E" except after C
• How to write a 4 page essay in an hour
• I really hate the Scarlet Letter. And The Grapes of Wrath
• I actually like poetry...just not sonnets.
• Spark-notes is my best friend.

Math

• How to find x
• that there are such thing as imaginary numbers
• You can't cram for a math test the night before
• another day has gone by and look I still havent used hard math
• Calculators are a beautiful thing.
  

Spanish

• Hola, Como Estas
• how to conjugate verbs (kinda)
• Burrito, Taco, tortilla, salsa
• I really hate Senorita Taylor. (Sorry not sorry)
• I will never be a Spanish translator for the government 

Science

•  uh.....
• H20 is water
• If my major requires a lot of science in college...not worth it.
• gravity, volcanoes, sedimentary rocks, OH MY!

 EMS

• How to take someones blood pressure
• Whoever came up with medical terms like  "Choledocholithiasis" is an idiot
•  How to give mouth to mouth to a cute boy (this might come in handy)
•  Paramedics are hot.

Health

• Don't do drugs
• smoking kills you
• Sex! ( no wait..I learned that from my mom)
• if you eat unhealthy and don't excersize you gain weight. ( I don't need a textbook for that.)

What Ive learned From 2 months in Creative Writing

• live life, because youre going to be dead soon.
• learn to love to write
• go to paris, be inspired.
• Nelsons dancing is quality.
• Try something different
• Whats wrong with our education system
• face your fears
• don't be a tourist
• Don't care what people think
• 2r+w(x(2))=GW  ( my favorite math equation)
• Some people have it harder than I do
• Some people are better writers than me
• How to be alone
• What its like to be human
• Stealing like an artist
• Reading other peoples writing.
• Being creative
• Insecurities
• Abstract vs. Concrete
• 200 uses for bricks ( You never know when this list could come in handy)
• Death
• I have to work harder to be a better writer
• Ive fallen even more in love with writing
• I now want to go to Paris. 

Now you try and tell me that math,science, or any other subject is more important than creative writing.

Scripted answers and Plot twists

           "Hey Hows it going?"

     "Good, how are you?"

     "Good thanks!"

This is a conversation we have many times a day. We have it while in the halls of the school,with the checkout lady at target, with someone you pass by when on a walk,  with the person at subway who makes your sandwich. This conversation is so familiar to us..but its also the most scripted one we could have.

When we answer good, how many times are we actually "good?" Truth is, the answer good means nothing in this conversation. It's just something we are expected to say. We don't even think about the answer before we say it. Its automatic. Its rehearsed. The truth is, the person asking how you are sometimes stops listening after they ask, because they know what your going to say next. "Good."

What would it be like if someone actually answered honestly to that question when we asked it? 

"Hey Hows it going?"

"Not great actually,

"I'm not okay." 

"I'm better today" 

It could be better."

"I'm so happy today."

What would are reaction be? It would probably be such plot twist it would throw us off. 

Line please?

 .

What would our next line be? Would we give them an awkward look, say "okay" and "goodbye"? Would we stop whatever it was we were doing or wherever it was we were going, turn around and and ask them why they weren't okay and take the time to care?

In my perfect world, we would care. Isn't that why we ask people how they are? Wouldn't it be nice to get an honest answer for once? To give one for once?

If you were to ask me how I honestly am right now I would tell you I'm insecure today particularly with how I look. I'm insecure and sensitive.

I guess with that said, I'll ask you, How are you? Give me honest answers. Give me a plot twist.  Tell me if you're sad. Tell me if you're scared. Tell me if your happy. If you're feeling insecure, or If you're so unbelievably happy. I want to know. I want to care. 

Pieces of paper

I have a babysitting job two days a week for a family. This last week when I was there, The 7 year old boy was working on a drawing he was going to enter for an art contest in school. Since we have been talking about kids, and creativity this week I started to ask him questions. I asked him at first what he was drawing. He replied that he didn't know, he was just going with it. I told him it looked really good. He told me thank you and than replied, "After all, if I don't like it afterwords, I have a whole stack of paper right here, I can just start over." 

That line has been running around in my head all week. "I have a whole stack of paper." He wasn't afraid of creativity. He wasn't afraid of messing up, or it looking dumb. 

Anyone that knows me knows I LOVE new notebooks. To prove this I even took a picture of all the journals I have bought...(most of these are within the last year) 

 Ive spent countless amounts of money on new journals, because they have a cool cover, or at the moment I'm inspired. I justify buying them because I'm going to write something great in them. The problem is, because I say I'm going to write something great, I end up not wanting to write until I think of something worth writing about. How many of these journals have I used? Zero. I just have a stack of empty pages. (But hey they have really cute covers!). This week were supposed to write about death. Ive decided I'm done. I'm going to kill the  blank pages. I'm done waiting for an amazing idea.

So I did. I took one of the blank journals, and I went outside 
(whose going to waste a good weather day like this?) I put in my headphones..turned on a One Republic song and started to write. I didn't wait for my muse to come along. I just started to write. Here's a picture of what I came up with.  

What I realized was that I didn't need to wait for inspiration. I went looking for inspiration. Once you start looking for it, its pretty easy to find. That One Republic song I listened to inspired me. The page turned out to be pretty good actually. Maybe I'll use it as my next blog post.  I think we should all start listening to that advice from the 7 year old I babysit. "There will always be more paper." So with that, I'm saying..death to empty notebooks. Death to sitting around waiting for inspiration. There will always be more paper if what you write isn't good. ( Tree huggers might argue with me on that.) Death to expectations of perfection in my writing. Death to being afraid of empty pages. Death to fear of failure. Afterall, There will always be more paper.

Abstract Colors

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be born blind, and never know what colors look like? Even more so, imagine how hard it would be to explain to someone what certain colors look like. For this blog post, I wanted to do something different. I wanted to see if I could describe colors by using other senses then just my eyes. Here's what I came up with.

Red:
Red is the color of a passionate kiss.
Its your pulse jumping when you hear his voice.
Its a scream at the top of your lungs.
Its what you feel when you're angry

Orange:
Orange is the sound of fire crackling.
It's the color of a warm embrace.
It's the taste of a clementine.
It's the leaves crunching in the fall.

Yellow:
Yellow is the color of the first icecream cone in summer.
It's the sound of laughter.
It's laying out on the hottest day in June.
It's the color you feel when you're inspired.

Green:
Green is the of the smell of rain.
Its running barefoot through grass.
It's what you feel after a good workout.
It's the smell of Hawaii.

Blue:
Blue is the color of sleeping in clean sheets.
Its experiencing something for the first time
It's feeling waves crash at your feet
Its putting lotion on newly shaved legs.

Purple:
purple is the touch of a flower petal
It's a romantic night with him.
Its reading a good book.
Its the color of a slow dance.

Pink:
Pink is the taste of a sprinkled cupcake.
It's the feeling after a really great kiss.
It's the color of valentines day.
Its the color of your cheeks when you blush.

Gold:
Gold is the sound of Fireworks.
Its a flash of lightning in a storm
It's the color of a Lifehouse song.
Its a sophisticated party.


You may have read those and not agreed with some them. But I think we all associate colors with different things. There's a lot more to color than just what you see. I think we associate color with experiences. My experiences are different than yours. Colors mean something different to me than you.  Could you explain colors to someone by using your own experiences? Do you have to be able to see to see color? Can blind people still know what color is through their experiences?

The Unexpected Fear

I have a lot of fears. Fears of Needles, of roller coasters, of speaking in public, of being alone forever, of my dog getting hit by a car, of change, of car accidents. These fears are familiar to me. Ive accepted them. Ive accepted the fact I might not ever like roller coasters, or that public speaking will never get easier. 

Since Ive been in creative writing however, I never expected I would be afraid of this. Of  being afraid to write. My whole life Ive thought Ive been a good writer. My mom told me I am. ( isn't that their job?)I've won writing contests in English classes, My friends like to read the things I write. Ive never had a reason to be scared of writing, until now.I  don't know if I can accept this fear.

The truth is, I'm scared of you. Yes you. I'm scared of Jackie 0. I'm scared of Lost and Found. Of June Carter. Of Peter Mckeller. Of Emma Kay. ( If I didn't mention you, I'm probably still scared of you too)
I read your blogs, and they are so beautiful. You have such a way with words...With creating images, with making people feel something. I read them and I want to be you. I want to inspire people like you do. I want to make people cry, make them laugh, make them smile like you do. 

You probably didn't know my dream was to be a creative writing teacher when I get out of college. I was so confident in what I write, and now suddenly I question every line, every word choice, and every title. I'm scared my dream isn't realistic. I'm scared that my writing isn't "worthy" enough to be a considered creative writing teacher one day. 

Don't get me wrong Nelson, I love this class. But I can't tell you how terrified I am of it. I'm terrified you don't approve of my blog. I'm scared you read the line about my dream, and laughed. I'm scared I wont get over my fear of writing. 

Then again, maybe fear isn't such a bad thing. Maybe its good I'm scared. Maybe for the first time, I feel challenged and I have take my writing into bigger depths. Maybe being afraid makes me a better writer. Nobody said fear was bad. I guess its what you do with that fear. Whether we let that fear take over us and give up, or  we use that fear to do something great.

Piles of Bricks

Bricks are pieces of us.
They are our insecurities.
They are our hurt.
They are our fears.
They are our heartbreak.
They are our weaknesses.
These bricks make walls
They are plastered together by little bits of hope.

Sometimes we build our walls up.
We put them up to keep people out.
Really all we want is to let people in.
Sometimes our walls fall down,
And we let love in.

Sometimes we get lucky
When we put our walls down.
We see something truly beautiful.
We wonder why we put them up in the first place.

I didn't get that lucky this time.
My walls fell down.
I fell in love.
All i got from it was a stupid pile of bricks.

I guess its time to rebuild my wall.