are there people chargers?

I can't fall asleep anymore.

My phone is dead.

I lost my charger.

Tomorrow my family and I embark on a journey that will take us 5,000 miles.

In the same little car.

Basically, my patience = ZERO.



Sorry. This is really whiney. The trip is going to be fun... I'm just scared that I'll be tempted to jump off a cliff at Jasper national park (Canadian) as I see family I don't really know on a trip that's really long. Three weeks, people. Three weeks.

Bah. Goodbye, blogland. Goodbye, America. Goodbye, friends.

we are taught to think that light means the morning.

As I lay in bed, awake and alone, I look at the people who cannot see and hope that someone is praying for me. But I can't see past the grid-square screen--pixels capturing a streetlight a few houses away. Bitter and condensed, I realize for the fiftieth time that I am nothing special--contradicting adoration from all of my house-wide fans.
So I watch those who are. Those who cannot see, and those who's confusions are rewarded with bracelets and empty applause.
My pen is poised like a spear in my quitting and lying hand, challenging those who doubt me. Like myself. Little does my pen know, the paper does not count as a shield.
But my pen keeps on stabbing at those who run in circles in a great big nowhere--yet the golden tip of my ballpoint pen cannot pop their lofty ideas and anchor-less prayers.

A
stab,
stab,
stab in the dark.

a dramtic teenager's experience with injustice.

grades = stupid teachers--that thank God--I will never have again.

injustice.

i can barely write words to describe my frustration.

ALL BECAUSE YOU CANNOT TEACH.

you cannot imagine the ugly, ugly words going through my head, that want to be written on this screen as a testimony to the injustice. injustice. injustice.

here is something i wrote as i suffered through that joke of a class:

"I am not a gifted writer. My vocabulary is not extensive, and when I try to describe things using words like "cotton-balls" and "sugar", I erase the hopeless scribbles in shame. So I am left with only creative arrangements of simple words that phase no one and leave impressions like footprints in dried concrete. So my pencil wears on through rough paper, begging me to stop..."

I received a B+ in creative writing. Because rubrics are apparently a challenge to make understandable, and I am not a kiss-ass.

injustice. injustice. injustice.

haha... it's funny.

HOW TO TICK PEOPLE OFF

1. Leave the copy machine set to reduce 200%, extra dark, 17 inch paper, 99 copies.
2. In the memo field of all your checks, write "for sexual favors."
3. Specify that your drive-through order is "TO-GO."
4. If you have a glass eye, tap on it occasionally with your pen while talking to others.
5. Stomp on little plastic ketchup packets.
6. Insist on keeping your car windshield wipers running in all weather conditions "to keep them tuned up."
7. Reply to everything someone says with "that's what you think."
8. Practice making fax and modem noises.
9. Highlight irrelevant information in scientific papers and "cc" them to your boss.
10. Make beeping noises when a large person backs up.
11. Finish all your sentences with the words "in accordance with prophesy."
12. Signal that a conversation is over by clamping your hands over your ears and grimacing.
13. Disassemble your pen and "accidentally" flip the ink cartridge across the room.
14. Holler random numbers while someone is counting.
15. Adjust the tint on your TV so that all the people are green, and insist to others that you "like it that way."
16. Staple pages in the middle of the page.
17. Publicly investigate just how slowly you can make a croaking noise.
18. Honk and wave to strangers.
19. Decline to be seated at a restaurant, and simply eat their complimentary mints at the cash register.
20. TYPE IN UPPERCASE.
21. type only in lowercase.
22. dont use any punctuation either
23. Buy a large quantity of orange traffic cones and reroute whole streets.
24. Repeat the following conversation a dozen times.
    "DO YOU HEAR THAT?"
    "What?"
    "Never mind, it's gone now."
25. As much as possible, skip rather than walk.
26. Try playing the William Tell Overture by tapping on the bottom of your chin. When nearly done, announce "No, wait, I messed it up," and repeat.
27. Ask people what gender they are.
28. While making presentations, occasionally bob your head like a parakeet.
29. Sit in your front yard pointing a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down.
30. Sing along at the opera.
31. Go to a poetry recital and ask why each poem doesn't rhyme.
32. Ask your co-workers mysterious questions and then scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about "psychological profiles."

the clock that went backwards? it drowned.

Yesterday night i watched the curious case of benjamin button, and it forced me to think about one of my least favorite subjects--time.
I suppose a more optimistic view of time would be years on earth--allotted to us by God--to learn, experience, and grow.
But whenever I really think about time (not life), I always think about goodbyes.
Goodbye to things like running around naked and eating play dough.
A backpack filled with only a few papers and lisa frank pencils.
Innocent childhood love.
Goodbye to puberty and cooties.
Goodbye to first kisses, first dates.
First loves. Real love.
But I suppose the most heartbreaking of all--goodbye to those that we fell in love with.
Once when I was a kid, as I was falling asleep, it finally struck me that one day, my parents would not be with me. They wouldn't be around the corner, in the other room. Not even on another street, or in a different country. Just... not here.
I ran downstairs, crying to my mom.
And she started to laugh.
She looked at me endearingly, and with a sad sort of twinkle in her eye she said that "one day, you won't need me and dad anymore."
This did not really solve any of my qualms about the subject, but mom sent me off to bed anyways because it was time to sleep.

But I need her now. I cannot imagine living without her, now. So, at this present moment in time, I need my mom. I need my dad. I need my sister. I need my brother. And I need time to sort through the things that need thinking with the time allotted to me by God.

Repression.

The clock has not frozen, but I concentrate on the hands where they are... not where they will be in an hour.


"The supreme irony of life is that hardly anyone gets out alive."
--Robert Heinlein

more "fun fo free: a series."

I went biking today.

I rode my bike up to 19 miles per hour.

It was fun.

Yay biking!

fun fo free: a series.

I rearranged my room.

It's weird.

I like it.

roses smell like summer.

Summer is a giant breath in between long stretches of endless work. So I sip in a gallon full of summer air through my nostrils. It's hard to describe the smell of summer... I want to say it smells like strawberries, freshly mowed lawns and ice cream. Notice how all of these are food. Shows you what I do in my spare time. But anyways, I have noticed that I don't really have a smell for winter because I feel like I am holding my breath, waiting for spring, which smells like rain-filled air, sweet dirt and pollen. By summer, I am greedily stashing the smell in my lungs until nature forces it out of me and I reluctantly exhale. I smell whenever I can because I have the time to "smell the roses." Fall smells like leaves (duh) and jackets with zippers... and yes they do have a smell. But nothing smells as good as the scent of summer, because it means free time, relaxation, going outside without worries for a jacket or mittens, and the hope for a better fall. So smell the roses, because you can : )