When my English teacher Mrs. Hardin asked us the very cliched question of what do we want to be when we grow up, Madison said he wanted to be happy, and I think I fell in love a little bit.

teenagers

I keep convincing myself that I don’t care, and then turning around and convincing myself that I should, and then convincing myself that nothing’s wrong in the first place. I long for the days when my hormones stop ravaging my body and none of this frivolous crap will matter to me anymore. #firstworldproblems

dance

On 8th Grade Night, they have a father-daughter dance. It’s just what it says on the tin. Mine was awkward, seeing as my dad is a double-amputee. Wheelchairs are not for dancing.

Ever gotten broken up with and then had to sit through your now ex-boyfriend’s pity party about what a douche he is for breaking up with you? It’s.. it’s actually pretty humorous considering I’m a callous douchebag.

If I’m a spinster for the rest of my life

My arms will keep me warm on cold and lonely nights

"Where Love is, God is. He that dwelleth in Love dwelleth in God. God is Love. Therefore, love. Without distinction, without calculation, without procrastination, love. Lavish it upon the poor, where it is very easy; especially upon the rich, who often need it most; most of all upon our equals, where it is very difficult, and for whom perhaps we each do least of all."

- Henry Drummond, The Greatest Thing in the World.

God you were always on my mind..

Gwen and her very best friend Essie were walking down the hall, as usual, side-by-side, on their way to their very least favorite class.. gym.

Gwen was happily chatting away about going to the movies with Brendon and Jonas and how wonderfully awkward it would be to have her two ‘loves’ in such close quarters. Essie always kept a near-total silence during said chatter, and so Gwen almost didn’t notice when Essie’s steps stopped and she froze in the middle of the crowded corridor, blocking traffic.

She only noticed her absence when she heard Essie’s name yelled in a rather unpleasant request for her to step aside. Gwen hurried back to her friend, the millions of jingly keychains on her purse bouncing rapidly. She grabbed her by the arm and drug her down the hall, requesting in a very similar manner that she wake her ass up and get back to the real world. She was used to the faded, almost milky look that glazed over Essie’s eyes when these episodes occurred. Of course, the first few times it had scared the living shit out of her, but now it was almost annoying.

Sometimes Gwen wondered why she and Essie were even friends. Gwen was a social, bouncy blonde who was just discovering that her parents couldn’t keep her completely contained. She was known around school for her loud, stomping laugh. Essie was another story. She was not social, not bouncy, and not blonde. Her dry sense of humor amused her friends, but the cynicism behind that wryness kept others from approaching her readily. She was by no means cruel, or unfriendly, but she was simply not interested in any type of friendship outside of the few friends she has made with equally pessimistic views on the world, other than Gwen, that is.

“Snap out of it, you dumb bitch, we’re gonna be late again,” Gwen whispered, and shook Essie’s arm. “What is it this time?”

The cloudiness faded from Essie’s black, humorless eyes. “I’ve just had an overwhelming realization, that’s all.” She stated in a very un-teenage way.

“Yeah, yeah, go on with it?”

“I’ve.. I’ve just realized that I’ve never felt lonely. And that scares me just a little bit.”

He’s not the most best guy. Really, he’s not. He’s a product of his raising, which has made him terribly racist in this racist world we live in. Sometimes he’s not so modest either. He’s a bit self-righteous, honestly. The worst is when he’s insensitive and hurts my feelings unknowingly. He can even be a flirt to other girls. 

He’s not the worst guy. Really, he’s not. He’s a product of his raising, which has made him wonderfully chivalrous, in this world we live in that’s so terrible towards women. He’s not so timid, either. He’s really confident, honestly. The best is when he makes me believe every word that he says. He can even make others smile.

So no, he’s not the anonymous Disney prince to come sweep me away and make me his princess, but he is real, and raw, and wonderful.

"Just how scared was I when I approached Sara Laughs? I don’t remember. I suspect that fright, like pain, is one of those things that slip our minds once they have passed. What I do remember was a feeling I’d had before when I was down here, especially when I was walking this road by myself. It was a sense that reality is thin. I think it is thin, you know, thin as lake ice after a thaw, and we fill our lives with noise and light and motion to hide that thinness from ourselves. But in places like Lane Forty-two, you find that all the smoke and mirrors have been removed.What’s left is the sound of crickets and the sight of green leaves darkening towards black; branches that make shapes like faces; the sound of your heart in your chest, the beat of blood against the backs of your eyes, and the look of the sky as the day’s blue blood runs out of its cheek."

- Stephen King; Bag of Bones