Shortest Non Poetic Response...You Ready?

i'm sick of liars.
and i'm sick of fake friends.
i'm done with people who aren't willing to see past the past.
and i'm done with people who bring about round about arguments.
and think they're amazing.
i'm through with people i know that think that i'm a dipshit because of something that happened a long time ago.
and i'm through with people talking about me behind my back.
meople will know what i speak of.
this sucks.

The Short Lived Youth of Our Time

in the golden days of my youth in canada, bible stories were exchanged at lunch for the love of the adventure, not the religion, and the boys were never afraid to ask the girls to play with them, not just to be nice, but because we were all friends, i hoped we'd never leave. there were days when the girl and the boys had snowball fights on the same side, and the concept of having a crush on someone was vague and undefined. if there were any prejudices, they were against the older kids who knocked down our snow forts in winter and stole our fields for soccer games. i lived every day like my last.

and then a crushing blow to it delivered my family to the vast and even more confusing land of the united states of america.

i was an ignorant child supposedly, living in the bubble that i put myself in through grade school, where 'gay' was a whole new concept to learn and cussing was learning a lot more words then stupid. arriving with my luggage at the airport in a strange place, i carried nothing but the clothes in my suitcase and the culture on my back.

should a move really make that much of a difference? are canada and the usa really that different?

maybe my above statement is true then. maybe i was living in a bubble, keeping myself away from all the socially unacceptable things. things i might have known about from the beginning.

things i learned upon arriving:
i didn't know what being gay was till at least seventh grade. i had no opinion on it until eighth.
i didn't know any cuss words until sixth grade. i didn't use them until eighth. up until that point i was under the impression that 'stupid' was a cuss.
i didn't know what an abortion was until eighth grade. i still don't have an opinion on it.

and now my ten year old sister is telling me grade schoolers call each other fags.
and long hair on guys is considered gay.
and one piece suits on girls make them lesbians.

there's something at work here.
because my
bubble
has definitely
POPPED.

Would It Kill Y'all Ta Be Nice Fur Once?

my heart was warmed this morning.
and i owe i all to him.



as i recall this morning, it seemed a dismal day
woken up an hour early with nothing exact to say

though starbucks did increase my drive
i sluggishly refused to come alive

a trip to a bookstore would suffice
i almost walked around it twice

opened it would be at nine
the ink shone in new day sunshine

so i sat & read my book
occasionally i took a look

at my watch so i could leave
for school on time. i could perceive

a gloomy day with lectures and
daydreaming, like a promised land

as i approached my distressing fate
every step, a stalling wait


AND THEN IT HAPPENED.
I REFUSE TO RHYME.

this boy i had only ever seen once or twice before, whom i knew was dating a popular girl, looked me straight in the eyes and said the sacred words.

"hey. how's it going?"

and from that moment forward, that day was beautiful.

*

this post had something meaningful behind it.
and if you haven't gotten past the sucky poem that i used a freaking thesaurus for, i will verbally abuse you.

*

all the kid had to do was smile, nod and say those words to me. they weren't anything deeply spiritual. but the moment after he said it, it made everything seem brighter and much nicer. i was a lot happier.
if this world wants to get any better, we first have to start by saying something kind, considerate, thoughtful, happy and loving to someone.
it could be someone we
know.
don't know.
envy.
hate.
love.
are planning on spending the rest of our lives with.
in pain.

whatever the case, it only takes a handful of words. those handful of words might make the difference to their next minute.
hour.
day.
lifetime.

a little kindness goes a long way. we just have to keep it going that way. if it stays that way, the world might even get a little brighter.

and just like the kid this morning, even so much or so little as a hello will do.

how i woke up funny today

i potentially forgot what i was going to write about today.

i remember in the days of yore,
when mountains caved and lonely sores
hurt more than they do nowadays.

clouds stand still on seasides when
the pigs all crowd around the pen
and eagerly await the slaughter.

the deadly infection spread like churches
and all along the forest, birches
were hacked down before speaking to their grandchildren.

and what i wanted most from life,
was to settle down and find a wife
who liked to watch horror on saturdays.

but she never came to me, you see
that blind men do, occasionally
take walks in the park and admire the sun.

to be frank, i'm frantic.
to be clear, i'm crazy.
to be honest, i'm hectic.
to be...anyone, i'm me.

i wasn't expecting anything to happen today. but she did. anything visits me in my dreams. and the whiteness and innocence of her hair astounds me every time. the way it captures the sun or the moon catches my eye.

and i saw a joint for the first time not on TV. was it a joint? i don't know.

what's that on the fire, mrs. lovett?

i enjoy what you think you enjoy like your mother enjoyed last week at noon on tuesday night. and i think i dislike what you said to your girlfriend last week about her hips.

we all heard it. it was rude.

and the scars on my wrists shall always stay there,
though not because i put them there,
it was hatred for me,
hatred for them,
and the veins that bubble under beg for release,
like rivers overflowing their banks.

it's gross that way.

did i mention that potentially forgot about what i was going to write about today?

And Upon the Shattered Throne He Lay with HEARTBREAK in His Eyes.

if i could rule the world, i would take away many things.
disease, poverty, hunger, bigotry, hate.
but the thing i would take out first would be heartbreak.
because it is a real killer.

it doesn't even have to be from a lover.
it can be from a family member.
a friend.

have you ever heard the sizzle of heartstrings screaming?
it sounds like dying love.
rusted hope. seared passion.
and scarred tissue.

no one should have to feel this ever. the feeling is something that never goes away, like an age old wound. and old wounds revisited never help accomplish anything.

this regret that you haven't done anything to save yourself burns a hole in you. it takes a bit of what innocence you scraped up from the dinner plate of life and dashes it to the floor. and those who have never had heartbreak are lucky. they still have that innocence.
and then there are those who send the heartbreak out. like predators on prey. who toy with emotions and patronize pain.
they honestly have no idea how much pain, how much torture they're causing.
unless they have felt it themselves.

so why do they still send it out?

we cannot expect to control their minds and make them do anything. but there must be a psychological point to their madness. why is still the big question.

i suppose it's like how rapists function. most rapists were raped.

if they know what it's like, then why do they do it to others? to watch them suffer? to see that they're not alone? is it a sport to them?

we need to understand other people's pain, not revel in it. that's sick and wrong. no one enjoys watching others laugh in their misery. that could lead to rash decisions. suicide.

heartbreak is also a decision. like a heart.
you can heal it.
hate it.
love it.
or break it.

Greetings From the Christmas Card of My Life

i figure just because of how many blogs you have
there's still no way you can be good at these hello things.
but i'll try.

x

'ello then.
if you agree with everything that i write
on here, then that's a tad creepy.
i suppose i am secretly british.
i use their quirky little expressions everywhere
poppet.
catch me meaning?

x

life's too short to
live in a mold.
so don't be uptight.

x

Hope you enjoy.
I'm living this
christmas card
of my life
with vigor.
without a mold.
without ropes.
without back-up.

and you're invited for the ride.