Alive.

i want someone to kidnap me and take me somewhere, anywhere; crazy, scary, random, peculiar, breathtaking. i don't care, just somewhere to pull me away from the flat, vacant wall that currently resembles my life.

i need inspiration, i need an adventure. for god's sake, i need a life. something other than hiding under covers and watching fictional people's fictional lives unfold hour after hour after hour, while mine just kind of, y'know, hangs out, untouched, suffocating.

there's an entire world out there, to experience, to see, to explore; a whole planet staring me in the face, begging me to crawl through that bedroom window and run.

please let me out, because i need to know that this chapter of my life was spent doing something that matters.

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."

-Oscar Wilde

Thank You For Not Sharing.

I think it's interesting how the people bagging groceries at SafeWay, or working the cash register at JC Penny, or behind the drive-through window at Burger King, always ask you how your day was.

Because really, what are you supposed to say? Everyone expects each other to say "Great!" or "pretty good," or "I'm doing fine, how about yourself?" But we're not always fine and dandy, and the person who asked you certainly isn't either, because they're stuck behind a window flipping burgers, or shoving produce into plastic bags, or putting hideous clothing on hangers and handing out receipts for a living, and for all they know, your day could have been terrible. You could have been late for work, or gotten yelled at by your boss. You could have gotten rear-ended by some idiot in a grungy Toyota and subsequently spilled your latte all over your brand new $100 tweed blazer. You could have found out that your dog died, or worse yet, a family member; you could have stumbled out of bed and broken three of your toes.

But of course, you're not going to say that to the person at SafeWay, or JC Penny, or Burger King. I mean, does anyone ever actually say "Oh, my day's been absolute GARBAGE, how about yours?"

No one cares, is the thing. No one wants to hear your life story, or listen to you rant about how much you HATE Family Guy and the fact that your husband watches it every evening when you would much rather watch the Home & Garden Channel. We're all just trained to act a certain way around everyone else; like our lives are perfect and wonderful and no I don't need your help but thanks for asking and yes, it's true, I do walk around constantly grinning like this and I AM ALWAYS THIS CHIPPER IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED.

Thank you for not sharing.

Big Stone Towers.

maybe i don't know what it means but
somehow it was there
that big stone tower, like the kind from
cinderella
or
sleeping beauty
or
romeo and juliet
or any of those nonsensical fairy tales
that trick you into believing
that dreams
can actually be
real.
and there you were, next to me
with that look in your eyes
as if to say
"this isn't worth trying to win
anymore."
so you quit, swung away
as i kept climbing, smiling
like i always knew would happen
SHOULD happen.
and as i take that last step,
the one i beat you to,
the one i was strong enough to take,
the one game i could finally win,
the rope snaps
i fall to the pavement
crushed
in every sense of the word
and you're still there
on the tower
staring down at me
like i always knew
would happen.

you couldn't lose.

maybe
now
i understand.

"Find a person who loves you for exactly who you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what-have-you. The right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass.” -Juno.

Egyptian Pyramids.

Somehow, the world came together in a way where everything was absolute and meaningful and right the way it was.

And we say we don't believe in perfect.

Some days I have to stop and wonder if it's all just some big, crazy, beautiful accident that we're here.

It seems Mr. Antichrist Superstar is brushing off on me...

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why my family and I never go out to eat.

So there's this great new deal at Marie Calenders; it's like, if you order a cheeseburger you get a piece of pie for some sort of ridiculously low price. Exciting, right?

RIGHT. So, throughout dinner, other than examining the various creepy couples snuggling up to each other in the surrounding booths, I'm pondering which pie I'm going to order; rhubarb. Chocolate Satin. Rhubarb......Chocolate Satin. Kind of a back and forth thing, you know?

I don't like crust, so I decide on Chocolate Satin. The most important decision of my life, I'm sure.

And here comes the waitress, who looks to be a few months pregnant, to collect our empty plates and ask about our pie preference, pen poised above her pad of paper.

"What kind of pie would you like?" she asks, shifting her gaze in my direction. Why do I always have to go first?

"Oh, I'll have the Chocolate Satan," I reply.

Satan.
As in the biblical character. Not satin, like the fabric.

Umm. Oops.

Oh yeah, and can you arrange the whip cream in the shape of a pentagram? Thanks!

At some point, between awkward chortles and her pseudo-sympathetic "Oh, don't worry, you're not the first to do that," the waitress nonchalantly turns away a few centimeters, no doubt trying to shield her unborn child from me.

Yeah, Chocolate Satan Pie. Delicious.
Good lord. Because reading a menu is so challenging.

If this isn't the story of my life, I don't know what is.

The red crayon always catches your attention.

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."
~Dr. Seuss

Conformity is Insanity.

Make the lie big enough and
People will listen.

If I were to tiptoe to the corner of your mind
Would I see the person I know?
Or the shadow of another?

Every day
We are
Not.

Give me desperation--Flash.
Give me want--Flash.
Give me fabricated disbelief
That we could accept anything less.

Flash.

I will
Not.
Fall forward into the depths of falsified reality.

Because the person behind the mask
May very well be
Just like
You.

"It's a good reminder in a world that only celebrates normal that just because something isn't normal doesn't mean that it's bad or scary."
~John Green

To understand the misunderstood is to lose sight of the beauty that captures our deepest curiosity. Oh the wonders, the wonders.

If I could be any color in the world, I would probably be black. It's the color I identify with the most; not because I'm necessarily a "dark" person, or because I'm depressed or "goth" or "emo." God, I hate those stereotypes. I don't like funerals, and I'm not transfixed with death, although I think a small part of everyone is. No, I would be black because it's not just one color, it's a mixture of all colors, every color imaginable. It's influenced by every aspect of life, and holds on to tiny fragments of everything it touches. Black doesn't discriminate, but rather embraces each color for their individual personality and incredible uniqueness.

Isn't that what society likes to believe it is? So accepting of diversity and individuality; land of the free, right? We all know the truth. Maybe if we painted the world black, it would cover up all the lies and we could finally stop pretending.

Black doesn't change for anyone. There's no light black or dark black. Just black.
It's misunderstood; degrade it with your criticism and shower it with judgment, but at the end of the day, it is what it is. A color. An emotion. A concept. A piece of mind.
Black is a curious color. =) We don't know what lies beneath it...we can only imagine and interpret.
It represents everything we are afraid of.
On the outside, it appears solid and impenetrable. But drop some water on it, break it's outer-layer, and it's colors bleed out.
Black is fragile, and so am I.

The color black is everything I am, and everything I wish I could be.

Whisper Wars

"Nobody wants to admit this, but bad things will keep on happening. Maybe that's because it's all a chain, and a long time ago someone did the first bad thing, and that led someone else to do another bad thing, and so on. You know, like that game where you whisper a sentence into someone's ear, and that person whispers it to someone else, and it all comes out wrong in the end.

But then again, maybe bad things happen because it's the only way we can keep remembering what good is supposed to look like."
~Jodi Picoult Nineteen Minutes

Sword Fighting in the Aisles of Wallgreens

As of today, I love my life.

I'm feeling spontaneous; I want to army crawl underneath a rosebush instead of walking around it. I want to climb a tree with Stepney and ask random passer's by if they've ever had to mow the lawn twice in one day because they didn't do it right the first time. I want to sword fight in the aisles of Wallgreens, despite the disapproving glares of fellow shoppers. Nevermind that I have a Geometry test to study for and a Sociology book to read. Screw following through with obligatory nonsense. I'm going through the McDonald's drive through in a shopping cart and ordering baked french fries and a veggie burger instead."Umm, we don't have veggie burgers here," the voice at the window will say. "Oh, so you're just going to slap some dead cow on people's plates?" I'll shout back in a British accent. I'm not a vegetarian, nor am I British. But does it really matter? What's the point of being alive if every single thing we ever do has to make sense? I don't want to be normal, I don't want to follow the rules. I want to steal sticks out of people's hands and chase after birds. I want to play unicycle hockey. I want to stand on the top of a massive cliff and look down into what could be the end of me.

I want to LIVE.