…this is still pretty damn cool…
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It’s been pointed out to me that it is helpful to keep in mind your first relationship when reading this. Practically everyone has one…a relationship that dragged on and on. That probably shouldn’t have begun in the first place. That you stayed with because you wanted a relationship, any relationship. This is what I’m ranting about people! I’m not attacking you. This is about hindsight, not foresight. I believe that things may end this way, but for the moment, we’re all stuck at the beginning.
So here it is. Now goeth and argue
An Entertaining Rant on Dating in High School or
be afraid my readers….be very very afraid
I realize that it’s usually my style to write about life through my own personal experiences. However,my relationship experiences are best described as not only as a sad disgrace but as a downright epic fail. I honestly don’t feel like moving the poor reader of this rant to want to crawl up in a small hole,cry, and curse the various people involved. While my experience is unbalanced at best, I believe that I am capable of giving a (somewhat) entertaining, (somewhat) unbiased, and (somewhat) accurate description of dating in High School.
Thoughts and Speculation On Love at First Sight
Contradiction?
Rendition?
Meaningless transition?
I think not pretty girl
Love at first sight
is redefinition
of ancient souls drawn toward mutual light
is hopeless meta-fission
of being carefully held in the night
Love is the heart
hidden in abstract art
What I’ve learned but consistently ignore. Not my best.
Sometimes I think it’s all in the lost and found of my soul,
these ancient emotions pulsing through my veins know no shame.
They’re reaching for some unattainable dream
leeching my strength,
an end to a means,
a means to an end,
it’s all coming back to whatever the beginning was
if there even was one.
Writing builds up inside like fire
and here I am reaching for love
reaching for hope
standing here with open arms.
Somewhere in that dusty box that no one ever bothers to look through
there isn’t peace
there’s finality
and I can hope in that….the end of the hope
hope will drive you insane
hope will keep you sane.
Hope is the fire in love, faith is the fire in hope
Love is the fire in me.
Love and longing exist inside a box and sometimes they should stay there
On occasion, I need to respect the “Look but do not touch” signs.
Oh gatorade cap, how hath I forsaken thou
I miss yourith soft orangy lidness that keeps yonder gatorade safe from poshy
I shall screw you on thou and savith thou from said fuzzy
Blame Kate
All my life I’ve been looking for something and never quite knowing what it is. It’s like looking through glass at a mirror. You see yourself, you see glass, you see through it all but into what? And why are you even standing there looking? My life has become so confusing. I can’t process the moral ambiguities anymore, it’s like I’m a shadow of myself. I feel like a conviction without purpose being a mirror for what other people need and don’t need. I feel lost, tired, confused, yet loved. Always loved, but I don’t know why. I sit and think and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’m reaching toward. I don’t know why it even matters that I ask. I just know that I will anyway.
Reflection
My eyes look back, shrouded with green compassion, black pain, and white innocence,
a part of yours, yours a part of mine, and us in the middle.
A reflection, a mirror.
Comfort.
Peace.
Open for you.
To all the people looking for an answer,
to everyone saving their prayers
I look to you in this world of bitterness,
and I ask, “Is there love?”
And despite it all the answer is yes. There is love and there is hope to those who open their eyes and refuse to close them.
As the sun sets, and the world turns,
your lips rise to meet me above the world; transcending it.
The look in your eyes, warm but shocking, mysterious but gentle.
It follows through to your kiss that holds your energy against mine, cherishes it, and shares it.
Look at me. Kiss me on the cheek. Give me a gentle hug. Look at me as though my eyes were mirrors that you only had to look through to see yourself as beautifully as I see you.
See why I need to hold you in this instant.
Be more than my daydream.
For the first time in weeks, something I’m rather proud of.
Ah, how I love the night. Quiet! Peace! At last somewhere to lay, somewhere to think. The time to spend 15 minutes trying to brew tea the old fashioned way. To sit and write about life and to get out that novel that I know I have in my heart. The time to listen to simple songs about love, and to search for peace as the wind howls and rubs branches against my window. Finally people slowly stop being illuminated by their cell phones, and sometimes, if they lay still long enough, start finding themselves in the inky blackness.
Only in the night I can think about all that I’ve done, all that has happened, and can smile, for in the night, in all memories there is love.
