Memories

Some time last march
As the dark clouds rapidly consume the once clear blue sky, I long for a place where I can stop and just write, but my surroundings don't permit me to do so. The bell rings and we must flee to our next class. Forever being told what to do by a bell, what tools we've become. It's almost as if we are mice in a maze searching only for our cheese.
Oh my, where have the days gone? As the flame flickers my writing pace advances. Brain pumping with all its might to keep up with the never ending winds. I wish to be a leaf, a leaf aged with season, plucked with the first winds of autumn, and then, burned. Don't fret for this shant be the end of me, I shall be dispersed into the open air, fragrant with life and wisdom. I’ll linger just long enough for you to recall your favorite memories, as you dwell on long forgotten times. I’ll be gone and lost forever. You’ll see me again soon, for I will be that first spring air to blow your hair out of place.

June 15, 2007
Rewinding my thoughts to a time when things were harsh and lachrymose. In a sense those days were good yet each waking moment I feared for my life a secret would be spoken of and my soul would be ripped from my clammy palms and smashed to the ground gilded and alone. Those days are over now, yet I still toil with forgotten love, lustful thought and a nebulous relationship with a boy I care greatly about. Pity is a word often connotated with this abrupt feeling of sadness. Not pity upon my own being, but pity for the loss of security and meaning. Why it is that such a friendship could dwindle from sight faster than it was obtained?
I am stuck within the pages of this wretched book, asking silly questions that could and maybe are crystalline to my perception. I probably choose not to read between the lines. To me life shouldn’t be about enigmas and conundrums. No one should live their life guessing. Don’t hide, just come out with it, because in actuality you must learn to face and overcome the hurtful truths of life. That’s just the way things should be.
I consider myself, at this present moment, a fortress of better understanding. I have it all in my head. I know the backgrounds of everything important right now, but am it useful?

November 25, 2007
The sun warms by body as the cold air whips at my face. There are so many people here, yet some how, I feel alone. Singled out.........
It is such a beautiful day. The weather is perfect and I haven’t seen the sky this blue in a long time. It makes me sad looking at something so wonderful, and uninhabited but may people and just knowing that the thing I am apart of, the human race, is slowly putting such beauty to an end. People don’t understand the severity of their actions. Slowly, but surely, we are burning our earth. My mother doesn’t believe that it will end in for, nor ice just a large: POOF: plain and simple. POOF! And we are all gone, painless. Wouldn’t that be a grand way to go? Personally I believe that our world/universe will simply implode thusly sucking itself into its existence or creating either a black hole or another big bang. This will most likely be large enough to recreate our universe, but then again it’s just a theory.

January 4, 2008
Bound to the mind.
My words are cut off from being heard. There is a cork in my soul and my opinions cannot be heard. My mind can’t even evaluate them, nor distinguish their true meaning. Am I better off confining my tongue to the bowels of my stomach, forever choking on the lost sentences? Or will I cough up that cork and disperse of this held back word vomit? The only way to truly rid me of this nonsense is to provoke my emotions, frustrate me, make me cry and then hand me a pen and my book. I will then unleash my fury upon it, fueled with emotion and angst teen bullshit.

Someday in February 3:12 a.m.
Here I am again, filled with nostalgia. I am cold, alone in my own little world listening to the rain. Too many people the rain seem to evoke a sense of gloom and sadness, but for me it’s the opposite. The rain fills me with joy and ease. It soothe my soul and comforts my heart, making it easy to think and even easier to write. I am a being who is filled with sensory emotion, from the nerves in my fingers to the tip of my tongue. It is easy to inflict me with sorrow or rejoice, but there's one and only one person who sends me straight into a spiral of sadness anger, happiness and regret every time we speak. I have no clue why I get this way, but it’s inevitable. I can’t control it and for some reason it taunts me..................TO BE CONTINUED