my lucky stars

Being a mere five foot two inches, I have a knack for standing on top of things. If I'm with a group of people and every one is standing, I'll find a chair or a ledge, or anything raised and just stand a top it. Being just a few inches taller makes me feel like I have more power, or sometimes, it just helps me see the world at a different perspective. Sometimes when I'm nice and taller, I like to look up to the sky and feel closer to the marvelous things that it contains.

Last night, while walking around my apartment complex, I looked up and saw my friends on the roof and gladly joined them. I live on the third floor and love it. But there was something about being on the roof. There were no boundaries, I felt above the people of the world. As I looked down and around me, I noticed the endless amount of streetlights, going for what seemed like forever. Shining and reminding me of all the people I'm surrounded by. It was a spectacular feeling.

But then I looked up. And I noticed, that because of the lights on the ground, the sky that I was allowed to feel so at one with, was not as lit up as I'd ever seen a sky. But it was still a wonderful sight. Stars are beautiful things, whether there are few or all shining in the sky above.

After my friend played some beautiful songs on the guitar and I danced along, I came down to reality, climbed into my bed, turned off my light and looked at the ceiling. And saw the stars. I've always loved the fact that there are glow in the dark stars on the ceiling of my room that actually work and even though they're not real, they remind me of what I'd be seeing if there was not a ceiling at all.

the rain still makes me think of you

The sky likes to remind me that it's still there. It likes to gently change from light to dark, and sometimes, when unappreciated, or needs some love, or wants to share some love.

It give a little to the earth. Just a reminder that the sky is still there and it plays a role in our lives.

In April, a friend of mine passed away. It was a life changing experience for me. But one thing I learned after his death, is that he always loved the rain. So have I. But now, when it rains, there's a little something more behind it all. Sometimes is brings me happiness, just pure joy. Sometimes, it brings sorrow, or even frustration. And a lot of times, it just brings thoughtfulness. Yesterday, it rained. And I just thought, about life, about my friend, about what the rain means to me. I read a journal entry I wrote this summer during a rain. It ended with

"you are always with me, I hope it rains."

I may not have seen this friend, or even talked to him is years, but he changed my life by losing his.

and I think it's going to rain today...

I was going through a notebook from my junior year of high school today. That seems like it was forever ago, it was only two years, a lot has happened since those days. I hate to say it, but I think those were possibly the best days of my life. Most of what I remember from junior year is the pure happiness I always felt. Nothing could bring me down.

It's not that I'm not happy now, it's just that I don't seem to have that pure joy that comes from knowing who my friends are, knowing that I'm doing the right thing. Knowing that someone is there for me no matter what happens. And succeeding in just about everything that I try at. But it is quite alright that this happiness is not here, it makes me enjoy the happiness I have now, and look forward to a day when that happiness comes again.

I was in class, looking at this notebook, avoiding the discussion, and I came across a list of 25 ideas for a speech that I would be writing in the next year. I looked at all these topics and realized that I use to be my own person, I use to believe in things, fight for what I believed and contributed to conversation. It seems that the happiness I had gave me confidence, I was willing to be that person that I know I am. So I am now in search of my opinion, my feisty self that I lost somewhere with all the low stress, happy life.

it's not my fault that when I was a baby I was dropped in a box of glitter
[and I've been shining ever since]

calculus and religion

and I take off and fly away,
living the life I've always believed.
then maybe, I think,
I hope that one day,
you'll start to miss me.
and if you do-
find yourself missing me while I'm out for a fly,
you might find yourself wishing me back,
and if I hear you, I'll try to come quick.
but I might not be thinking or listening for you,
or your call.
I might no remember you,
or your love,
at all.
you should have missed me all along.
you should have missed me before I was gone.
you lost your chance.
you had me and let me go.
it's over now, but you should know.

you could have had me.
I would have stayed.

but you would not love me

so I flew away.

when the day comes

Did you know that following your dreams and following your heart are two different things?

I wonder if in my life- the two will line up. I hope that I won't have to choose. Because I'm much too passionate.

I will choose the wrong one, I am quite sure of it.

I Fell Asleep in Your Arms

While I was home, I went to see my friends puppies often. They were born the night before I arrived and all they really did was eat and sleep, each one would fall asleep in your hands. Small and vulnerable, these puppies so willingly trusted me to protect them. They couldn't see me, yet here they were, dozing gently in my arms. I fell in love with each one of them.

I wish I was as innocent as a newborn puppy. Only knowing that being held means warmth and love. Not everyone who holds you brings warmth and love. Did you know that? Sure, at the moment, it may seem like it. But later on, you don't feel the warmth. You feel the chill of their soul, and instead of love, bitterness.

While I held a puppy, he would sometime twitch, I would wonder if he was dreaming and what possibly a blind newborn puppy could dream about. I'm sure it would be nothing short of wonderful imagination at it's finest. I have always been one to dream while I sleep. I can't always remember my dreams, I know they happen, I sometimes I even know that they are happening. Most times I can change them while they are happening. When I can remember them, I wonder. Is there a reason why? Is there a deeper meaning? Should I keep those who are in them in close view in the months to come? Or should I perhaps leave these wonderful thoughts and ideas in my sleeping mind? Why is my sleeping mind doing this to me? Why? Why? Why?

I don't have answers. Perhaps I have one, life would just be so much easier if I could simply be a puppy.