What I Had Was Enough

I remember when I was kid I was never happy with the small apartment my family lived in, I was never happy with the cars we had, or the size of our television. I wish I knew what I know now, and that would be, what we had was enough. The times we had in that apartment, whether it be playing with the neighborhood kids, taking walks to the local convenience store, or running along creeks was enough for me. The magical places those dingy cars took us was enough. The television shows and countless movies we watched was enough. What really mattered was who was around the television, rather then the size of it. I wish I knew what I know now. What we had was enough. Now my family lives in a nice big home, and we have a large tele, and much more. But it seems as though we still rely on that small television tucked away in my room, or that run down van that still takes us to wherever we like. Everything was enough for my family and I.

Aging

Growing old is by far my greatest fear. I could never imagine myself in ten or thirty years. And it scares me. Aging is the most immense sin mankind can ever commit. It's almost like giving up on yourself, waking one day to find all those wrinkles, sags, and spidery veins draped all over your translucent skin. An epiphany in a way, never noticing the aches or fatigue or sadness. I think that's why aging scares me the most. It's because it's a slow, savory murderer. Not taking us out with a bang but with a whimper.

Passé

Never has he been this scared in his life. As the days go on, he begins to realize that his family is slowly replacing him. He's become obsolete. And there's nothing he can do about it. He's a mere nuisance, someone who's too mature, someone who's too emotional, someone who's dying. His life is being uprooted and imitated by his "doppelganger", in a manner of speaking. Nothing is his, nothing is of his origins, and nothing can be saved.

      Lily, he's scared.  

No, wait. Lily, I'm scared.

Smile Even Though Your Heart is Aching

Over the Summer I learned how to smile. How to smile to strangers. To the elderly. To everyone in general. But now it seems as if I have forgotten the simple mechanics of a smile.

Mother's Mind Games

When we're at the store my mom always tries to implant the idea that is was my intention to buy the box of cookies she wanted to eat or it was my desire to buy that bag of chips. It's Inception all over again. Family Edition. She starts with, "Do you want some cookies?". And I would say no but she insists that I should pick up a box, and then I'll ask her, "Do YOU want the cookies?" and she would say no. But it doesn't stop there, she keep pestering me about it until I get the box of cookies and then she'll say, "Oh. You want to eat cookies?"

Seriously?!

It seems as though a low self esteem is trendy now a days. All I ever hear people my age talking about is how ugly they are or if they could, they would change everything about themselves. Is it that wrong to love yourself? The answer is yes. Well if you're fifteen and surrounded by people who love to fish for compliments. It's absolutely disgusting when I see a perfectly handsome young man or a ravishing young woman, only to hear them say, "Man, I wish I had more muscles" or "No you're lying, I know I'm ugly". (Something along the lines of that.) And when I do see people loving themselves, all they get is, "You're so conceited!". It's really irritating, but you just learn to deal with it. But what I really what to leave you readers with is that you should love yourself no matter what. Don't think of it as being conceited, but more as being self aware of your beauty.

Snow

The weather people promised us snow. We got rain and wind and big white fluffy clouds. Everyone made such a big deal out of this possible chance of snow here in Sacramento. But it wasn't too much to fret over. The only reason why I believe it was so special to the population was because snow symbolizes purity and innocence. Both of which have fled this filthy town. Now we're all ridden with guilt and greed or some other incurable illness and the snow was our last chance at redemption. Unfortunately, redemption is not that simple, we need to find it within ourselves, not from a bottle of whiskey or a statue of Jesus, but instead deep inside of all us resides that forgiveness we so long for. The only problem is that we're so busy looking for it in other places that we forget our own potential.

Homer's Iliad

"Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be more lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again."

To Those Who. . .

     To those who ever doubted us, to those who ever looked down on us, and to those who never believed in us. You do not know where we came from. You do not know what we been through, what we had to go through to get that grade, what we had to do to get to where we are today. So please, don't belittle us. Don't ever put us down, don't ever feel bad for us. And don't think you understand what we've been through. You will never know what's like to have to live like we do. We worked hard for what we have. We did everything we could just to be here. We gave our strongest effort. And you can never take that away from us. All we ask of you is for your respect. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sincerely,
    The Weirdo, The Nerd, The Tomboy, The Queer, That Boy Who Sits Behind You in Homeroom, The Quiet Girl, and everyone else who has ever felt discouraged based on their appearance, or their voice, or the shoes they wear, the clothes they buy.  

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes.

It irritates me greatly when I hear people talk about writing in pen instead of pencil because they, "Don't want to regret their mistakes". Mistakes shouldn't be dodged or reduced. We should celebrate our mistakes! They're in our nature, we can't help but slip up from time to time. It isn't our fault. Mistakes let us know we're still human, what good are we if we don't make a few errors here and there?

How a House Fly Enlightened Me

Today in class I watched as a fly landed a girl's back. There is stayed, and to my dismay, it did not move or fly. So I prodded and poked at it. Frustrated at it's serene and placid nature, I continued to distress it, until finally it fell to the floor. The girl did not mind my intrusion after the situation was explained. And as for the fly, well it just laid there. Occasionally dragging it's fragile wings and it's small body as far as it's little legs would take it. Then is stopped and took a "nap". A permanent nap, never again to fly, never again to be disturbed. The fly's life was no different from the lives we lead. We're continuously pried at, never allowed a break. God forbid if that were to be the case. After all, rest is for the weary, sleep is for the dead.