Gene is dead. Two friends are suicidal. I wrote this for one of them... Hopefully he listens....
You threaten to leave,
But do you even know what that would mean?
Do you understand what that would do?
What it would do to me.
It would rip me,
It would tear me apart.
It would cause the greatest pain.
It would push me over the edge.
I would want to join you,
Challenging the abyss.
Can it hold us?
Would we completely disappear?
I want to jump with you.
But you see my dear,
I cannot join you.
For what would that do?
It would break others.
Others would break themselves,
Just to get me back.
Just to see me once again.
And its those lives that I value more.
I don't stay here for me.
I stay here for you,
And the people who need me.
So please dear,
Don't jump just yet.
Don't leave me here alone,
Broken and weeping.
Wild Ride of Life
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Age
True age is such a difficult concept. A person might be in their mid-20s as a physical age, but their true mental/spiritual age could be many years older. Or younger.
I am 17. Already, I have seen death, disease, and other horrors. I have listened to friends talk about suicide and about killing others. I have met those that are too young for their body, and those that are too old. I have experienced things that I wouldn't wish upon anyone else, and others that I wish everyone could experience. I am at least slightly older than my physical age.
I know a man that has a hundred year old eyes. He has only lived on this planet for 23 years, but his eyes seem to have seen thousands. He has already seen the violence and destruction of war, and experienced some of the worst physical pain in existence. He has experienced love and heartbreak, along with betrayal. He has put the pieces of himself back together, even when others hid the keys. He is starting to find himself and become whole again, after many long years. He is much older than his physical age.
Another man I know has defied deaths grip. He is 28 years old, but has eluded death many times. He was born a twin, but his other half was stillborn. He used to ride a motorcycle, until a car hit him head on and caused many injuries, one of which should have been death. He had appendicitis a couple years ago, That went fine, until his intestines didn't wake up. This man should be dead, and that is one of the things I admire about him. He keeps his stability and strives to acquire even more knowledge than he has already. He is at least a bit older than his physical age.
My best friend doesn't want to grow up. She is 18, and alternates between acting like a child, teen, and true adult. She has the knowledge of a person many years older than her, but she doesn't want every aspect of the adult life. She enjoys many things that would be deemed 'too young' for her, but she doesn't care. She shows professionalism when needed, but also laughs at the little things. She is a general average age, matching her physical body (although she is a bit odd).
And my beloved, he is 24. He can be divided into two halves. Mental and emotional. Mental includes knowledge and thought processes. Emotional, well, thats obvious. His is a very logical person. He can think problems through and solve them in the way that makes the most sense to him. But he has trouble understanding why people feel what they do. He also has some troubles understanding why people look at others how they do. He understands some, but not all. Due to the lack of idea of responsibility, he is slightly younger than his physical age.
So as you can see, age is but a number. Granted, most people hover within a few years of their real age, but you can never judge a book by its cover. Take the time to learn about the person before you evaluate their personality. I hope I have not offended any of you that I mentioned but that is how you are seen. I look up to all of you.
I am 17. Already, I have seen death, disease, and other horrors. I have listened to friends talk about suicide and about killing others. I have met those that are too young for their body, and those that are too old. I have experienced things that I wouldn't wish upon anyone else, and others that I wish everyone could experience. I am at least slightly older than my physical age.
I know a man that has a hundred year old eyes. He has only lived on this planet for 23 years, but his eyes seem to have seen thousands. He has already seen the violence and destruction of war, and experienced some of the worst physical pain in existence. He has experienced love and heartbreak, along with betrayal. He has put the pieces of himself back together, even when others hid the keys. He is starting to find himself and become whole again, after many long years. He is much older than his physical age.
Another man I know has defied deaths grip. He is 28 years old, but has eluded death many times. He was born a twin, but his other half was stillborn. He used to ride a motorcycle, until a car hit him head on and caused many injuries, one of which should have been death. He had appendicitis a couple years ago, That went fine, until his intestines didn't wake up. This man should be dead, and that is one of the things I admire about him. He keeps his stability and strives to acquire even more knowledge than he has already. He is at least a bit older than his physical age.
My best friend doesn't want to grow up. She is 18, and alternates between acting like a child, teen, and true adult. She has the knowledge of a person many years older than her, but she doesn't want every aspect of the adult life. She enjoys many things that would be deemed 'too young' for her, but she doesn't care. She shows professionalism when needed, but also laughs at the little things. She is a general average age, matching her physical body (although she is a bit odd).
And my beloved, he is 24. He can be divided into two halves. Mental and emotional. Mental includes knowledge and thought processes. Emotional, well, thats obvious. His is a very logical person. He can think problems through and solve them in the way that makes the most sense to him. But he has trouble understanding why people feel what they do. He also has some troubles understanding why people look at others how they do. He understands some, but not all. Due to the lack of idea of responsibility, he is slightly younger than his physical age.
So as you can see, age is but a number. Granted, most people hover within a few years of their real age, but you can never judge a book by its cover. Take the time to learn about the person before you evaluate their personality. I hope I have not offended any of you that I mentioned but that is how you are seen. I look up to all of you.
Imagination
In my head, I see amazing things. Things that will never make it onto paper. Why? Because my hands are incapable of creating something even close to what I see. Maybe writing it out will help? Probably not.
A figure approaches you. Its roughly human in shape, though it has some features that are far from human, even from the silhouette. Wings extend from her back. They are currently folded behind her, but they are far from hidden. They stretch from half a foot above her head to her waist, with a small claw on the top where the three supporting bones connect. Her tail is long and slender, trailing slightly above the ground as she walks. She finally reaches you, and you notice that her skin has scaled over. The scales on her arms and face are the same deep color as her wing bones, the deepest purple in existence. Her tail wraps around her legs and rests on her feet. There is something peculiar about her legs. They have one extra joint. It appears that the knee has moved up her leg and the extra joint faces the other way. The tail flicks, a spade on the end, when she asks your name.
"Huh?" You ask, too transfixed to hear what she said.
"What is your name?" She smiles at you, and you notice that her canine teeth are slighly longer. You marvel at how little the scales on her face are, and how they still manage to be as deep as the rest of them. She laughs a little.
"Well, at least you arent staring at my chest." As she mentions it, your eyes flicker down to her chest and notice that from her chin and down her front, it is a toughened skin of a lighter shade of purple. The underside of her tail is the same way. "Come on now, my eyes are up here." You move your eyes up and see the feline pupils and the deep blue irises. "Thats better."
"Where... Where did you come from?" You stammer.
"Oh, ive been here all along." She reaches her hand out to shake yours, you briefly notice that the fingers are clawed. "The name is Kiyah." Kiyah... Thats the short girl, and she didnt have wings yesterday.
"What happened?"
"Nothing, you're just seeing all of me now." She snaps her fingers, causing you to blink. Suddenly, she shifts back to how you remember her. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Uh. Ya. Sure."
And I wish, I wish that I could draw her.
A figure approaches you. Its roughly human in shape, though it has some features that are far from human, even from the silhouette. Wings extend from her back. They are currently folded behind her, but they are far from hidden. They stretch from half a foot above her head to her waist, with a small claw on the top where the three supporting bones connect. Her tail is long and slender, trailing slightly above the ground as she walks. She finally reaches you, and you notice that her skin has scaled over. The scales on her arms and face are the same deep color as her wing bones, the deepest purple in existence. Her tail wraps around her legs and rests on her feet. There is something peculiar about her legs. They have one extra joint. It appears that the knee has moved up her leg and the extra joint faces the other way. The tail flicks, a spade on the end, when she asks your name.
"Huh?" You ask, too transfixed to hear what she said.
"What is your name?" She smiles at you, and you notice that her canine teeth are slighly longer. You marvel at how little the scales on her face are, and how they still manage to be as deep as the rest of them. She laughs a little.
"Well, at least you arent staring at my chest." As she mentions it, your eyes flicker down to her chest and notice that from her chin and down her front, it is a toughened skin of a lighter shade of purple. The underside of her tail is the same way. "Come on now, my eyes are up here." You move your eyes up and see the feline pupils and the deep blue irises. "Thats better."
"Where... Where did you come from?" You stammer.
"Oh, ive been here all along." She reaches her hand out to shake yours, you briefly notice that the fingers are clawed. "The name is Kiyah." Kiyah... Thats the short girl, and she didnt have wings yesterday.
"What happened?"
"Nothing, you're just seeing all of me now." She snaps her fingers, causing you to blink. Suddenly, she shifts back to how you remember her. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Uh. Ya. Sure."
And I wish, I wish that I could draw her.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Another portfolio from Creative Writing
We just finished the story portion of Creative Writing! Each of these stories has a specific topic and/or prompt.
We were told to write a very verbose description of something.
We were given a list of objects, and were told to use them in a story that takes place in a hotel room.
We were told to write a very verbose description of something.
What is it?
It is a staple in plans of some villains, and helps both children and
adults learn. It allows teenagers to cause death to all that cross their
path, but also to make friends far and wide. It is taken for granted
when it works, but people panic when it fails. It has no shape or form,
but is a concept. The only physical form it has is when it is combined
with other technology. It is seen as a highway, and also as a web. What
is it?We were given a list of objects, and were told to use them in a story that takes place in a hotel room.
The Doctor and the Cube Remote
As I walked down the hall, I heard a curious man shouting in my hotel room. He was point a glowing thing at a cube.
“Drop it!” I yelled as I pulled a gun. He looked at me and came towards
me. I didn’t understand what he was doing, so I did the first thing my
dad taught me to do. I pulled the trigger. He fell to the floor, and I
stepped over him. My foot accidently touched the cube, and I was
seemingly transported.
“How hard is it to get freaking sharks with freaking laser beams attached to their freaking heads?!” I found myself yelling.
I was in a movie. Austin Powers to be exact. It was playing when I had
come in. Thinking I was hallucinating, I tried to move. My foot
twitched, and I was suddenly the smartest person in the world.
“Chuck! We need to get that computer chip out of your head!” I
recoiled, and found myself on the floor of my hotel room. The man was
missing, and another was in his place.
“I’M FRIENDLY!” He yelled.
“Wha.... Wha...” I couldn’t get the words out. Where did this orange haired man come from?
“Yes, yes, I’m an alien. Here, hold this, Careful, its a sonic
screwdriver.” I was dumbfounded, but followed when he took off running.
“This cube was supposed to distract me while they planted the bomb.” He
tried to explain.
“A bomb?!”
“Yes. And it did a good job. Where is the emergency switch?”
“Huh?”
“The button. To turn everything off.”
“I don’t think...”
He stopped suddenly. “Give it here!” I handed him the screwdriver, and
he pointed it on a piece of wall that slid open. “Ah-hah! The Master!”
As he finished the man in the room pulled a pen out and shot him with a
laser. I was in shock from the things I’d seen before, so I took a pogo
stick from the corner (I still wonder how it got there) and knocked the
man out, or so I thought. I hit a big red button, and I suddenly saw a
crowbar headed towards my face, and everything went black.
I sat bolt upright in bed, and relaxed. The Doctor Who marathon must have stuck in my head last night.Wednesday, February 27, 2013
ALL the poetry!
I just finished my poetry portfolio for Creative Writing, so I thought I would put the poems here. Its a lot! Let me know if you like any ^.^ The collection itself is titled...
With
Tituba, the girls sentenced two more.
From June to September,
Nineteen men and women
Traveled to Gallows Hill.
And none came down.
One man, Giles Corey,
Denied to go to trial.
He was pressed to death.
“It’s him! Its the witch!”
The accused were rich,
The accused were powerful,
The accusers gained wealth and power,
If the accused were to die.
Pieces of my Soul
Insanity
(Sensory/Imagery)
The taste of insanity is a recipe,
One that has been altered.
The package lists it as the same,
One that has been altered.
The package lists it as the same,
But it
is clearly unique.
The sound of insanity is the man laughing,
With someone that isn't really there.
Laughing with the friend that has always been there,
But nobody else can see.
The smell of insanity is the natural perfume,
That has gone past its time.
At one point it was certainly nice,
But now could not be passed as pleasant.
The look of insanity is the genetic birthmark,
That has been there since birth.
It has surely been on her face since birth,
But now makes the model unsuitable.
The feel on insanity is the everyday joy,
That nobody else will know.
They hide from things that are deemed inappropriate,
But you find joy in what only you can feel.
The sound of insanity is the man laughing,
With someone that isn't really there.
Laughing with the friend that has always been there,
But nobody else can see.
The smell of insanity is the natural perfume,
That has gone past its time.
At one point it was certainly nice,
But now could not be passed as pleasant.
The look of insanity is the genetic birthmark,
That has been there since birth.
It has surely been on her face since birth,
But now makes the model unsuitable.
The feel on insanity is the everyday joy,
That nobody else will know.
They hide from things that are deemed inappropriate,
But you find joy in what only you can feel.
I Hear the
World Singing
(I hear...)
I hear the
world singing,
So many songs
I hear.
Those of the
British,
Singing proud
and loud.
The Germans,
Tempo as fast
as the Autoban.
The Swiss,
Singing a song
to please them all.
The Japanese,
Praising the
newest advancements.
And I hear the
Americans singing,
Singing of
freedom.
Each sings a
song of what belongs to them,
And to
everyone else.
Elemental
(Poet-Tree)
The air rushes
past,
always willing
to change direction.
The water flows
down the stream,
carrying its
woes downstream.
The fire dances
on the logs,
never slowing
its pace.
The earth holds
steady,
not letting
others bring it down.
And the spirits
flow free,
bound by
nothing other than dreams.
Imagination
(Free-Write)
As the world spins,
I find myself spinning with it.
As the band sings,
I find myself singing with them.
As the performers dance,
I find myself dancing with them.
As the audience cheers,
I find myself cheering with them.
And as I look around,
I find myself surrounded with
imagination.
Stage Fright
(Haiku)
As the fear
builds up,
Remember what
you're doing.
You are here
to shine.
Magic
(Found)
Magical sounds
filled the room.
Swallowing my
nervousness,
I moved in
time,
Making little
Turns and dance
moves.
I'm not clumsy,
But not Ms.
Cheerleader.
Its easier than
imagined,
With the
beautiful, lilting beat
That celebrates
the night.
Appropriate for
tonight,
It carried me,
Gracefully
around the room.
Loren's voice
recited the poem,
Echoing the
cadence of the music.
And together,
We made magic.
Betrayed
Page 205
The magical
sounds of Enya's orchestral song “Aldebaran” filled the room. I
swallowed down the last of my nervousness, and began walking forward,
tracing a path around the outside of the circle, like I'd watched
both Neferet and Aphrodite do in the rituals they'd led. As they had,
I moved in time with the music, making little impromptu turns and
dance moves. I'd been really freaked out about this part of the
ritual-I mean, I'm not clumsy, but I'm also not Ms. Cheerleader/Pom
Squad. Thankfully, it was lots easier than I'd imagined it to be. I'd
chosen this particular music because of its beautiful, lilting beat,
and because I'd Googled Aldebaran and found it was a giant star-and I
thought music that celebrated the night sky was appropriate for
tonight. It was a good choice, because it seamed as if the music was
carrying me, moving my body gracefully around the room and overcoming
my initial nerves and awkwardness. When Loren's voice began reciting
the poem, he, too, echoed the cadence of the music, just like my body
was, and it felt like we were making magic together.
Belief
(Sonnet)
A religion is a
means of escape.
A way to
express your faith and belief.
The strength of
faith will leave their mouths agape.
Expressing
yourself can be a relief.
A million
events can test your strength,
But a true
believer never gives up.
Keep your
friends close, and bullies at length.
Keep yourself
as kind as a pup.
The world may
appear to be on your side,
But be prepared
to deal with things gone wrong.
If you are
true, your doors will open wide,
And people will
hear your beautiful song.
Believe in
yourself, and live every day,
For it could
not be your last, but it may.
Theme for
English B
(Theme for
English B)
The teacher
said,
Use your time
And write a
masterpiece.
Let it come
from you-
And it will be
true.
Is it really
that easy?
I am seventeen,
living in Owatonna.
I have gone to
school here and in Blooming,
But here is my
home.
I am one of the
many teens here,
That identifies
as a nerd.
A block or two
from here, I head towards Main.
And I pass
Main,
Instead taking
Broadway.
And down the
street,
I stop at my
second home.
The Shop.
This place is
home for a reason.
Around me are
my brothers and sisters-
Too many to
count.
But here I can
name a few;
Theres Andy,
Eccentric and
expressive.
Theres Ryan,
Not afraid to
imagine.
And Kyle,
Accepting what
he is.
Along with
Mike,
Showing the
world who he is.
Theres Brent,
A lovable
oddball.
Theres Jerry,
Determined to
succeed.
And once upon a
time Keith,
Too afraid to
fail.
Every once in a
while there's Nick,
Who shows me
love.
And Luke,
Always
curious.
With Caitlin,
Awkward and
intelligent.
And with
everyone I share a part.
I am me,
And I have
found happiness.
And that is my
theme for English B.
The Fox
(Free-Write)
I saw a fox
walking home,
Head down and all alone.
He raised his head to look at me,
And looked as sad as one can be.
I saw a wolf walking home.
I asked him "Why's he alone?"
"He once had a mate,
But she was not in his fate."
I saw a dog walking home.
I asked her "Why's he alone?"
"He had love once upon a time,
But he can no longer call her 'mine'."
I walked home in despair,
Feeling his loneliness in the air.
I looked in the mirror,
And what I saw was fear.
I want to walk him home,
So he wont be so alone.
But I cannot help him,
For I fear what I am.
I am a dragon,
The fiercest predator of all.
Head down and all alone.
He raised his head to look at me,
And looked as sad as one can be.
I saw a wolf walking home.
I asked him "Why's he alone?"
"He once had a mate,
But she was not in his fate."
I saw a dog walking home.
I asked her "Why's he alone?"
"He had love once upon a time,
But he can no longer call her 'mine'."
I walked home in despair,
Feeling his loneliness in the air.
I looked in the mirror,
And what I saw was fear.
I want to walk him home,
So he wont be so alone.
But I cannot help him,
For I fear what I am.
I am a dragon,
The fiercest predator of all.
Welcome to
the League
(Free-Write)
A young girl is
thrown into battle.
Bright pink
hair and kitty ears,
Along with her
little stuffed bear.
All she
seemingly wants,
Is to play a
game.
But dont let
the young green eyes fool you,
This girl has
the strength of magic.
One kind
glance, one misstep,
And you can
find yourself surrounded,
Surrounded by
fire.
As you peer
through the fire,
Determined to
survive,
You see a
shape, tall and looming.
“It's my bear
Tibbers!”
The little girl
yells.
Annie is a girl
of nightmares.
One born in a
magical land.
And as she
laughs,
You hear a
familiar sound.
“You have
been slain.”
Charms
(Object)
In my drawer,
I find charms.
Charms missing
their chains,
Charms that
once had a purpose.
One in
particular catches my eye.
A heart,
But with a
piece missing.
A piece in the
shape of a key.
I know who
holds the key,
And it brings
me to tears,
Engraved in the
back,
There are two
names.
'Alec + Kiyah'
the charm says,
And I know the
key says the same.
Why do I
torture myself like this?
It didn't work,
We both know
this.
Yet little
things will make me remember,
Remember what I
have done to him.
And what he had
done to me.
I set the charm
down,
Letting the
past go.
I tell myself
that it was right,
It was right to
save myself the grief.
Although it
broke his heart.
Kiyah
Jeau Riggleman
(Acrostic)
Kind
and loving
In
every way,
Yearning
to assist
All
who come in need of
Help
and love.
Joyously
keeping
Everyone
who comes to her with
A
problem positive and
Ultimately
happy.
Ready
for you to cry
Into
her shoulder,
Gladly
supplying support to the
Gracious
and kind.
Loving
the kindness of
Every
one of her
Many
friends
And
acquaintances,
Now
and forever.
It's Her!
(History)
In
a small town, back in 1692,
Seven young girls formed a bond.
A bond that killed many,
And lives on through history.
Betty Parris, Ann Putnam, Elizabeth Hubbard,
Mary Walcott, Mercy Lewis, Mary Warren,
and Susanna Sheldon all claimed,
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”
As the seven girls contorted,
Everyone watched in fear.
Who would be convicted now?
Who would they say lived a life of lies?
Swift and cold,
A winter wind in the endless summer,
Women and men were convicted.
“It’s her! It's the witch!”
It all started when young Betty,
Only six years of age,
Fell dreadfully ill.
And to the devil the blame fell.
Slave Tituba baked a cake
To help the young girl recover.
But the children cried,
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”
Seven young girls formed a bond.
A bond that killed many,
And lives on through history.
Betty Parris, Ann Putnam, Elizabeth Hubbard,
Mary Walcott, Mercy Lewis, Mary Warren,
and Susanna Sheldon all claimed,
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”
As the seven girls contorted,
Everyone watched in fear.
Who would be convicted now?
Who would they say lived a life of lies?
Swift and cold,
A winter wind in the endless summer,
Women and men were convicted.
“It’s her! It's the witch!”
It all started when young Betty,
Only six years of age,
Fell dreadfully ill.
And to the devil the blame fell.
Slave Tituba baked a cake
To help the young girl recover.
But the children cried,
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”
Sarah
Good was a beggar,
Sarah Good was a misfit.
Sarah Good did not belong.
Sarah Osborn hasn’t attended church,
At least for a year.
Sarah Osborn has to go!
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”
Sarah Good was a misfit.
Sarah Good did not belong.
Sarah Osborn hasn’t attended church,
At least for a year.
Sarah Osborn has to go!
“It’s her! It’s the witch!”
From June to September,
Nineteen men and women
Traveled to Gallows Hill.
And none came down.
One man, Giles Corey,
Denied to go to trial.
He was pressed to death.
“It’s him! Its the witch!”
The accused were rich,
The accused were powerful,
The accusers gained wealth and power,
If the accused were to die.
The
witch hunt started in June,
A runner jumping out of the gate.
And in September, the trials ended.
“It’s them! They’re the liers!”
A runner jumping out of the gate.
And in September, the trials ended.
“It’s them! They’re the liers!”
Linder,
Douglas. "An Account of the Salem Witchcraft Investigations,
Trials, Andaftermath." An Account of the Salem Witchcraft
Investigations, Trials, Andaftermath. N.p., n.d. Web. 25 Feb.
2013.
Warring
(Free-Write)
There
are two sides of me,
Constantly
warring.
I
should help that girl,
I
could use her later.
I'm
so glad hes nice to me,
Wonder
if he will lie for me.
It's
not right to worry them,
But
my parents deserve it.
My
boyfriend is so faithful,
Doesn't
mean I have to do the same.
The
first side wins out,
While
the second stalks my thoughts.
I
am good, I am kind.
I
am manipulative, I am evil.
I
embrace the light,
But
I understand the darkness.
Dear
Colin
(Letter)
Dear
Colin,
You
lived a life of love,
You
lived a life of laughs,
You
lived a life of happiness.
In
your death-at such a young age-
People
have mourned.
People
have cried.
And
yet, people laugh in your memory.
People
find happiness in your memory.
People
show kindness in your memory.
Colin,
you are missed.
We
miss your laugh,
We
miss your love.
And
yet,
we
live on,
laughing
and loving.
I
hope you are happy in your special place,
Kiyah
Riggleman
Life
of a Gamer
(List)
A
gamers life is never dull.
For
the lonely ones,
The
Massively Multiplayer Online.
A
group of like-minded individuals,
You
must be compatible with one.
For
those who have a boring 'real life',
The
action adventure.
So
many places to go and things to do,
How
can life be boring?
For
those with the sharp mind,
A
puzzle game.
So
many different combinations,
It
can keep you entertained for hours.
For
those longing to command,
A
strategy game.
When
all those people listen to you,
You
must surely be right.
For
those with the active imagination,
A
role-playing game.
Everything
is fun and exciting,
You
can escape from a boring life.
And
for those itching to go to war,
The
First Person Shooter.
When
you get a headshot,
Its
a feeling of power.
For
every type of person,
There
is a video game.
And
a persons video game
Can
tell you a lot.
Eugene
Barber
(Acrostic)
Engineering
in his spare time,
Unleashing
the ideas
Generally
only the
Eccentric
can think of, he now
Needs
himself and
Every
member of his family.
Brought
to his knees by
A
very viscous
Respiratory
cancer, he
Battles
with
Every
ounce of his being, attempting to
Remain
happy for the sake of his loved ones.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Today
There are so many things running around in my head. Tumbling, jumping every which way.
Today, I am attending a funeral. This funeral is not for any family, or super close friend. This funeral is for a student in the 2013 class named Colin Piper. On Sunday, February 3rd, Colins mom went to wake him up, and found him not breathing. During the night, he had a severe asthma attack. He was airlifted to Rochester (best hospital in the area). They did CPR for 15 minutes and put him in a medically induced coma. Once he was breathing better, they started lowering the medicine to wake him up. But he didn't.
On February 9th, Colin was taken off of life support and died at 1:29 pm. Everybody in the school has been effected in some way. I knew Colin in elementary school, and he was fun to joke with. I also have this thing called empathy. When someone around me is sad, I am sad. I can block it off, but its uncomfortable. So today, I will cry. I will cry for those who cannot cry anymore. I will cry for myself. But most importantly, I will cry for Colin and his family.
Today, I am getting my asthma retested. I havent been taking my daily inhaler, and it feels like it has gotten worse. I know I at least need a new daily. That will be fun, as part of the test requires me to run around triggering my asthma.
Today, I am missing my boyfriend. It is Valentines day, and my other is in Florida... 1,600 miles from me. I miss him so much, though I am glad he is having fun out in the sun and warmth. Its too cold here!
Today, I see my mentor and friend. Hopefully he can find a way to make me feel whole for the first time in my life.
Today, I grieve and love. I will do my best to help those around me. But also keep myself well. Today is a day of rebirth.
Today, I am attending a funeral. This funeral is not for any family, or super close friend. This funeral is for a student in the 2013 class named Colin Piper. On Sunday, February 3rd, Colins mom went to wake him up, and found him not breathing. During the night, he had a severe asthma attack. He was airlifted to Rochester (best hospital in the area). They did CPR for 15 minutes and put him in a medically induced coma. Once he was breathing better, they started lowering the medicine to wake him up. But he didn't.
On February 9th, Colin was taken off of life support and died at 1:29 pm. Everybody in the school has been effected in some way. I knew Colin in elementary school, and he was fun to joke with. I also have this thing called empathy. When someone around me is sad, I am sad. I can block it off, but its uncomfortable. So today, I will cry. I will cry for those who cannot cry anymore. I will cry for myself. But most importantly, I will cry for Colin and his family.
Today, I am getting my asthma retested. I havent been taking my daily inhaler, and it feels like it has gotten worse. I know I at least need a new daily. That will be fun, as part of the test requires me to run around triggering my asthma.
Today, I am missing my boyfriend. It is Valentines day, and my other is in Florida... 1,600 miles from me. I miss him so much, though I am glad he is having fun out in the sun and warmth. Its too cold here!
Today, I see my mentor and friend. Hopefully he can find a way to make me feel whole for the first time in my life.
Today, I grieve and love. I will do my best to help those around me. But also keep myself well. Today is a day of rebirth.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
More poetry
Me and Caitlin have Creative Writing together, and its poetry unit right now.
The taste of insanity is a recipe,
One that has been altered.
The package lists it as the same,
But it is clearly unique.
The sound of insanity is the man laughing,
With someone that isn't really there.
Laughing with the friend that has always been there,
But nobody else can see.
The smell of insanity is the natural perfume,
That has gone past its time.
At one point it was certainly nice,
But now could not be passed as pleasant.
The look of insanity is the genetic birthmark,
That has been there since birth.
It has surely been on her face since birth,
But now makes the model unsuitable.
The feel on insanity is the everyday joy,
That nobody else will know.
They hide from things that are deemed inappropriate,
But you find joy in what only you can feel.
I have felt so different lately. I can look at myself in the mirror without disgust. I can accept compliments genuinely. Finally, I am healing. Except for this whole boyfriend thirty minutes away. But hey, you take what you can get. He loves me and treats me well, and I dont want to part with him ♥♥
The taste of insanity is a recipe,
One that has been altered.
The package lists it as the same,
But it is clearly unique.
The sound of insanity is the man laughing,
With someone that isn't really there.
Laughing with the friend that has always been there,
But nobody else can see.
The smell of insanity is the natural perfume,
That has gone past its time.
At one point it was certainly nice,
But now could not be passed as pleasant.
The look of insanity is the genetic birthmark,
That has been there since birth.
It has surely been on her face since birth,
But now makes the model unsuitable.
The feel on insanity is the everyday joy,
That nobody else will know.
They hide from things that are deemed inappropriate,
But you find joy in what only you can feel.
I have felt so different lately. I can look at myself in the mirror without disgust. I can accept compliments genuinely. Finally, I am healing. Except for this whole boyfriend thirty minutes away. But hey, you take what you can get. He loves me and treats me well, and I dont want to part with him ♥♥
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