Why am I so awful?

Boo. I haven't written a post in wayyyyyyy toooooooo longgggg. I apologize :( My life. Has been. Crazy: busy, dramatic, interesting, what-can-I-even-say?

Anyway. Um. I'll try to get back to posting on here cause I feel so bad- this blog's my babbbyyyy and I can't abandon it!!!<3333 Sooooooooooo. Yeah. I'll look through what I have on here already and maybe post a lil som'n' som'n' to make up for my horrible blogging skills.

The boy with the fruit snacks.

*This is actually something that happened to me, and I couldn't stop thinking or worrying about it, so I had to write it down.*

            “Hi, Miss, would you buy fruit snacks for my soccer team?” I stopped and stared at the tall boy of around 18 standing in front of me. The vacant, deer-caught-in-headlights look in his eyes and something about his voice told me that there was something wrong with him. His light brown hair fell past his ears, the edges sticking to his face with sweat. A tight, mottled pink and gray t-shirt accentuated his rail-thin frame; baggy jeans that didn’t quite fit made him look disproportional. Everyone who passed him avoided looking at him, politely declined his request, then pretended he didn’t exist. I stood there staring, wondering if I was being naïve for feeling so sympathetic towards this lone figure in a crowd standing outside a food market.

            “Miss, you wanna buy fruit snacks for my soccer team?” I smiled apologetically then shook my head ‘no.’ Averting my gaze from his figure, I hurried back to my car with my groceries. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I felt haunted by the image of the boy holding his box of fruit snacks, wondering why no one, including myself, had wanted to help him and his soccer team. It made me flinch as I recalled his facial expression when I too had refused to help: blank, too accustomed to disappointment to even care anymore. Although I wished with all my heart that I had bought just one fruit snack, I realized why I didn’t. I had been scared of the boy, scared of my own pity for him. He was off, not normal, and as much as I hated to admit it, that had frightened me. I felt ashamed and disgusted with myself. Even more than that, I was disappointed with myself. I drove back home, knowing that the image of the boy with the fruit snacks would haunt me forever.

NEW STORY! YEAH!

*So, this is the prologue and beginning of chapter 1 of that story I told you about from a while back. You know, the one that I dreamt about...you don't remember? You sure? Ah well, I guess I understand that...I have been terribly neglectful of this blog. Sorry about that. I'll try to be better (which really means I'll continue on the exact same way I was before.) Anyway, I haven't finished the first chapter yet and I'll probably add more to the prologue, but I really just wanted to get what I have out for you guys to read so I can get some feedback and ideas and good stuff like that. It's kinda bad right now and just a wee bit cheesy, cause I haven't edited it or anything, so you'll have to bear with me for now. Enjoooyyyy! :)*

                                                                            Prologue

            Screams and cries pierced the air as heat and smoke erupted from beneath the five gargantuan rocket ships that were lifting off. Thousands upon thousands of people were in hysterics, pointlessly begging the rocket ships to come back, to not leave them. A state of complete panic settled in the atmosphere as explosions set off and people realized they had been abandoned and there was no hope left for them now. They scrambled around, clutching their loved ones close, looking for any safe place; there were none. Some just collapsed on the ground in tears, all too aware that their death would soon arrive.

            Miles and miles away, in an indestructible, underground cavern, hundreds of people were hiding. Tears filled their eyes as they listened to the distant cries of their fellow humans. But nothing could be done now. All their fates had been sealed, a different future for each group- life for those who hid or fled, and death for those who had been abandoned.

  

                                                            Chapter One

            The dusty brown dirt crumbled between my fingers as I worked. Day after day, I did the same thing: I tilled dirt in the greenhouses connected to the living center. Section after section, I worked 12 hours a day, stopping only once for a ten-minute lunch break. But as tiresome as it was, as bored as I would become, I knew it was necessary to live. We all had to till dirt to survive; it was the only way to produce more oxygen on the moon.

            For each center in our settlement, there were three greenhouses, except for the living center. There were five for this one, since it was most commonly used and oxygen was most needed here. Each greenhouse was split into fifty ten-by-ten squares, and we were all assigned five squares for life, which we would till until we died.

            I sat back on my heels and massaged my aching neck and shoulders with my grimy hands. Glancing over at Darren a few squares to my right, I saw he had stopped working as well. He met my gaze and smiled. I quickly looked back down and continued working. We could get in trouble for slacking off, and the officials might grow suspicious of the two of us. Darren wasn’t my match and it was illegal to have an attachment with anyone else.

            At birth, a sample of our genetic makeup is taken and kept in the lab center. Every year on our birthday, we take another genetics related test. Each test, along with the original sample, determines which two members of opposite sex would produce the healthiest, strongest, most capable humans, and they are matched. Our matches are revealed to us when we are sixteen, since by that time our bodies are mostly developed, and it is required that we marry at eighteen. We are permitted to have one child and one child only, so as to prevent over-population. My match is Jasper, but my heart belongs to Darren.

Hmmm...

Pain is such a strange thing. I used to always say that I had a very high tolerance for it, but I've found myself to be such a complainer as of late and I am not okay with that. I got sunburned today (AH, YES, SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY THAT IT'S WARM ENOUGH TO BE BURNT AND TANNED!!!!) and it annoyed me that it was so obvious to everyone that I was in pain. Why do I have to be so dramatic and make such a big deal of my troubles? I really, really dislike being that way and I'm trying hard to stop...being...that...way (pathetic sentence...I apologize that you had to read it.)

Some of you may know this already, and some of you may not, but beginning a few weeks ago, my knee's been stupid and caused me a lot trouble. Because it decided to stop working, I guess it set off this chain reaction thing where it caused all of the joints (or something) in my hip to quite literally pop all out of place then pop back in, one by one. Which hurt. Last year, I tore my hamstring, and now that pain has returned again. And all of this is on the same leg. So I've been limping through dance competitions/classes and life, and waiting for my doctor's appointment to find out what the heck is wrong with my body. In the meantime, every single person that sees me asks me what's wrong and I have to explain the whole story. Which is annoying. I wish that I didn't have a stupid limp so I wouldn't have to explain my stupid and weird and completely inexplainable  injury. I guess the point of all of this, is that I don't mind being in pain, but I do mind people being aware that I'm in pain and then questioning me about it. Cause I hate explaining my problems and having to talk about them.

....Aaaanndd this post was sorta pointless. I think I've had too much sun the last two days. What?! There's no such thing as too much sun, silly! Sorry guys, my brain's just scrambled and stupid. I'll try to write something better and (hopefully) more amusing next time.

One-Act Play

*Here is mah play :D*

A mother in her early 30s is reading the book “Pinocchio” to her four-year-old son. They are sitting on a couch in their living room.

Mom: (Turns to final page.) “Never again, Pinocchio decided, would he tell another lie.” (Shuts book.)

Timmy: Mommy…your tummy is fat.

Mom: What?

Timmy: Your tummy is fat.

Mom: Timmy, that’s not a very nice thing to say.

Timmy: I’m just telling the truth.

Mom: Sometimes, sweetie, it’s best to keep the truth to yourself.

Timmy: Oh. (Pauses.) Read it again?

Mom: Sure. (Opens the book.) “Once upon a time, there was a toymaker named Geppetto. Geppetto loved children, but had none of his own-“

Timmy: Why doesn’t he have children?

Mom: Because he’s not married.

Timmy: Is that ‘cause no one loves him?

Mom: No, honey, it’s because he hasn’t found the right person yet.

Timmy: Oh. Is Daddy the right person for you then?

Mom: Yes, Timmy.

Timmy: Then why do you yell at him?

Mom: (Laughs.) Because sometimes he can be annoying.

Timmy: Is that why you yell at me? Because I’m annoying?

Mom: (Hesitates.) Let’s just keep reading. “Geppetto could make wonderful things out of wood. One day he made a puppet that looked just like a boy. He called the puppet Pinocchio…” (The lights dim, then come back on.) “This was not true. Suddenly, Pinocchio’s nose started to grow longer-“

Timmy: (Hurriedly.) Mommy, I don’t like carrots.

Mom: …Okay.

Timmy: I don’t like it when you make pasta, either.

Mom: Timmy, what did I tell you about saying nice things?

Timmy: But Mommy, I don’t want my nose to get bigger.

Mom: What?

Timmy: When Pinocchio lied, his nose got bigger.

Mom: It’s just a story, Timmy.

Timmy: (Unconvinced.) Okay.

Mom: (The lights dim, then come back on.) “Right away his nose grew still longer.”

Timmy: (Begins to cry.)

Mom: Baby, what’s wrong?

Timmy: O-one time, you s-said I couldn’t h-have a c-cookie, and…and…and I ate it anyway!

Mom: (Shuts book.) Okay, Timmy, I think you’re taking this story way too seriously. Your nose won’t actually grow longer if you tell a lie.

Timmy: (Sniffs.) Th-then why d-does it h-happen to P-P-Pinocchio?

Mom: Because Pinocchio is fake, sweetie. He’s a character in a made-up story.

Timmy: (Horrified, stops crying.) Pinocchio isn’t…real?

Mom: No, no, honey, uh, he…he’s real, all right. It’s just, uh, his…his nose just doesn’t actually grow when he tells a lie.

Timmy: (Unbelieving.) Oh.

Mom: The point is, Timmy, that it’s not a good thing to lie, but you should try to keep the truth to yourself if it will hurt someone’s feelings.

Timmy: But Mommy, when Pinocchio didn’t tell the truth, he got into lots of trouble and his nose kept getting more bigger and more bigger.

Mom: (Sighs.) I know, Timmy, but that’s because…it’s because he was a puppet! Yeah, that’s why. That’s what will happen to you if you’re a puppet. Which you’re not. You’re a real little boy.

Timmy: So it’s okay if I lie?

Mom: No, Tim-

Timmy: It’s okay if I don’t tell you that I broke the lamp and hid it under the couch ‘till Daddy found it and said he did it so I wouldn’t get in lots of trouble? It’s okay if I say that my tummy hurts so I don’t have to eat dinner when you make yucky food? It’s okay if I say that you look pretty even when I’m just kidding? It’s okay-

Mom: Timmy! Stop, stop, stop! None of that is okay! (Pauses.) Well, except for maybe that last one, but still! It’s not a good thing to tell a lie-

Timmy: But you said it’s okay to tell lies…were you lying?

Mom: (Sighs.) No, Timmy, I wasn’t lying. What I meant was sometimes you have to use tact when telling people things.

Timmy: What does tact mean?

Mom: It means being aware of how other people feel and tell them things while keeping their feelings in mind.

Timmy: …What does it mean?

Mom: It means, if someone looks ugly, will you tell him or her they look ugly?

Timmy: Yes.           

Mom: (Shakes head, sighing.) No, Timmy, you shouldn’t.

Timmy: But then that’s lying.

Mom: No, that’s being tactful.

Timmy: So being…tac-…tact-…tactful means lying?

Mom: No, it means making sure you don’t hurt anyone’s feelings.

Timmy: Does that mean that telling the truth hurts people’s feelings, then?

Mom: Well…(Pauses.) Well, sometimes it does. But I still want you to always tell the truth. Just, sometimes, don’t tell all of the truth.

Timmy: You want me to lie a little bit?

Mom: No, I want you to be tactful. (Smiles. Silence. Timmy looks very confused. Sighs.) Listen, Timmy, how would you feel if I said I didn’t like that Lego ship you built me earlier before?

Timmy: I’d be super sad because that’s not very nice, Mommy. You said you loved it!

Mom: And I do love it, sweetie. But let’s pretend that I didn’t love it, and I thought it was kinda ugly, which it isn’t, it’s beautiful, but we’re just pretending.

Timmy: We’re pretending? Are we playing a game now?

Mom: Sorta…Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, we’re pretending that I didn’t like your Lego ship, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because I love you so much. So I told you that I thought it was great. I’m not really lying; I’m just being tactful so I won’t hurt your feelings.

Timmy: So…so you’re not telling the whole truth?

Mom: Exactly! Just like I said before! Not telling the whole truth is called a “little white lie.” Telling those doesn’t hurt anybody’s feelings and it’s not a wrong thing to do, either.

Timmy: Oh…why are they little and white?

Mom: Uh…I’m not sure, but do you understand what I mean?

Timmy: I think so, Mommy.

Mom: So you’ll try to be more tactful from now on?

Timmy: I’ll try, Mommy.

Mom: Does that mean you still think I have a fat tummy?

Timmy: Oh no, Mommy, you’re the skinniest, beautifullest person in the whole wide world! (Places his hand on his nose and feels it with apprehension.)

Thoughts!!!!

Heeyyy...everyone...*Sheepish smile* So, yeah, I know I'm a bad a blogger and...stuff...and...yeah...

Okay, I'll stop being shy and start this post already. I seriously, earnestly, REALLY WILL TRY to post my thoughts every day from now on. I think it'll be healthy for me to just let everything out daily, y'know what I'm saying? So there'll probably be much less actual writing, and a lot of informal, most likely frightening views into my mind. If you wish to not read any of it, I do not blame you.

So let's get this party started, shall we?

Thought 1: South Riding on PBS ended...I CAN'T BELIEVE *SPOILER*ROBERT*SPOILER* DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thought 2: Tomorrow (Monday) is quite likely the last day at college (I might go in on Wednesday, but I'm not sure). This saddens me...so very, very much. I could care less about no more classes, but I don't get to see my friends and have fun twice a week anymore :'( Homeschoolers (and the Graceling): WE MUST UNITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 'Cause otherwise, I will be one MISERABLE camper.

Thought 3: Soooo....there's a guy, sorta, and he confuses me. Greatly. To an unhealthy extent, most likely. And I'll probably never ever see him again after this week, since this is his last semester at Suffolk...And he's three years older...and three inches shorter...and has a girlfriend...and I'm trying so hard not to gush about him...and it's really hard...because I do this way too often, when I let myself obsess and then I end up heart-broken...and he acts like he's completely in love with me...and I know that he's a very flirtatious person naturally, but the way he flirts with me is different...and I'm sure I sound like a complete idiot right now. Gahhh, boys are so stupid!!! You have no idea how hard I'm trying to not let myself feel anything. I'm literally forcing myself not to think about him, but as you can see, he's numbah 3 in my mind. NOT A GOOD THING!

Thought 4: DUDE, my hair was crrraaazzyyyy frizzy and curly today. Whhhaaaaaaa????? I'm loving that the humidity makes it supeeerrr warm, but my hair is INSANE when the weather's like this! No way I'm wearing my hair down tomorrow, that's for sure.

Thought 5: I painted my nails today. They are dark purple. I loooovvveee them. It makes me feel so summery and happy. I kinda just want to go dance around outside and pretend that it's raining and sing at the top of my lungs. How epic would that be? Pretty epic, I'd say.

Thought 6: I'M GETTING FACEBOOK AGAIN SOON! AHHHHHHHHHHH, DUUUUDDEEEE, I CANNOT WAIT AT ALLLL!!!!!!!!!!!

Thought 7: I just realized I said dude twice in this blog (now three times). What is this? I only say "dude" (four times) in person, and only sometimes in that case. What is wrong with me????

Thought 8: I. Cannot. Wait. To. SHOWER TOMORROW.

Thought 9: I am in such serious pain lately. My left knee decided to die, my left thigh just hurts ALL THE TIME, and my left hip has been seriously messed up somehow. And now my right leg is hurting because I've been relying on it so heavily. WHY DOES MY BODY HATE ME??? Plllleeeaaseee, plllleeeaasseee, leg, I need you to work again! I have competition this weekend!!!! And of course, I can just barely do the dances full out. I haven't even been able to stretch in awhile, either. Ugh, I can already see what an epic fail this weekend's gonna be. Hopefully, I'll just remain in one piece, although I'm pretty sure my limbs are just gonna fall off soon. But, you know, no biggie.

Thought 10: I love friends. So much. I just love hanging out with people, and talking, and laughing, and having fun, and smiling, and just being with people who enjoy the same things. YOU ARE ALL SO COOL AND THE BEST EVEERRRRR.

Thought 11: I think I'm going into happy overload, which hasn't happened in awhile. But I'm also going into nostalgia overload at the same time, which you would think would be mentally and emotionally impossible, but not in my case. As you all already know, I am a very, very special person. Very.

Thought 12: Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I should post my one-act play on here for you guys to enjoy! *GASP*! Yes! Brilliance, right there, you just read it, ooohhhhh yeaaahhh!!!! See, I have my moments. Sometimes. Occasionally.

Thought 13: I might be seeing people on Tuesday!!! Yay, yay, yay, yay, yay, yay, yay!!!!!!! I LOVE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! With a passion. Unless they're stupid. And annoying. And jerks. And rude. And, you know, human. :P I guess a better way to phrase that would be "I LOVE FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Thought 14: This was an incredibly boring and stupid post; more so than my other thought posts have been. I apologize profusely for this. And thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for reading all the way to here (if you have) GOOD NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

POEMS

*Here are the two poems that I promised youuuu :) The first one is a List Poem, so we're not supposed to actually say how we feel, but rather list items in our surroundings and show how we feel by the way we describe them and the words/adjectives we choose to describe them with. The second poem is an empathy poem, where we have to write from a widow's point of view. Her husband was drowned and now she is forced to confront the water. Enjooyyy :) <3 *

Beach At Heartbreak


Echoing wind rushing through the air,
Hair stuck to damp skin, caught in dry mouth.
Sand gritting against sore muscles,
Forcing its way into every crevice. Ice cold
Water stinging old wounds, sharp rocks creating
New ones. Salt sitting heavily
In the air, making everything
Taste bitter. Weak waves crash again and again;
Earlobes ring in the desolate silence
That follows, like the quiet that comes
After death when the heart stops beating,
The breathing unnoticed until its gone.
Eyes burn and the cold cuts the air
Like a knife through the skin, painful and
Delicious at the same time. Atmosphere
Throbbing from the ocean's pressure, beating
Against reality like an incessant,
Never-ending drum. Delicate shells shatter
Beneath careless feet, as does
A heart in careless hands.


Clearwater Beach


White sand, so soft against my skin;
It's my safety, my comfort, my world.
It's the barrier between me and
The harsh sea, the cruel water, the
Painful memories. "Vacation," they said;
"Time to reflect," was my need, according
To them, they who played in the hands of
Death itself. Seven years ago today,
My life had fallen apart. Today, the
Sea had released its wrath on my
Beloved. The capped waves came rushing
At me, like a rabid animal
Foaming at the mouth. I was helpless
Against its destructive power. I could not
Face it, that which had killed my husband,
That which had broken my heart. Stinging
Water sprayed my face, and I gasped,
Stiff at the touch of the brutal drops.
I took a step closer to my deepest fear,
Longing for closure, longing for peace.
A wave rose to meet me, swallowing
Those who had brought me here in a
Dark void of nothing. I turned and ran.