with a subtle look.

On a bench in the park, she sits. Horrible posture. Her back arched.
It's morning and the birds are singing. Her smile is fresh. A natural feeling.
Bread in hand, she's the most popular stand. The birds come, sit and coo.
As she feeds them, she names them. Each and every one she knew.
It's mid day now, and still she sits. Back stiff and heated.
Bread box lighter. The birds get restless. Not one stays seated.
She's humming now; she thinks it sweet. The birds are dancing, in the heat.
The heat goes down. Sunset so pretty. Cars are leaving her an empty street.
Her feed gone, the birds leave too. Desperate to stop them. She calls; She coos.
They can't understand nor do they care. She slumps down further. Alone again.
The air is empty. The sun color gone. She tears up to mourn the lost.
In the dark her humming stops. The moon has made her pale.
Don't forget me. Please don't forget me; Is all that's heard as she laid down, and exhaled.

i just want to be happy.

i don't get it. what is it that makes us crave the attention of our peers? we'll even put up with ones we don't care for, just so we have someone. is being alone really that bad? why is it that ostricisim can drive otherwise perfectly normal people to suicide?
does it really matter?
are these fake relationships really important?
well apparently so.
these past few months have proven my point.

i think i'm growing up.

My heart hurts today. Bad. And it's not from anything I've done, or anything that was done to me. I hurt for what other people are doing to each other. I hurt for the old man I saw at my work today. He was wandering down the hall, hunched over, head twitching from his tremor, white hair in his eyes, pale. Thin. Frail. He kind of half smiled at me and I did my best to smile in return. It was hard to smile back though, because his efforts to smile at me just made me hurt worse.
I was at college today working on stupid CIS. Usually that puts me in an angry mood so anything even remotely tied to sympathy has no place in the front of my mind, but today I guess it was different. I was looking around at people, which I have a tendency to do out of curiosity and procrastination. And I just started hurting again. Everyone I saw looked like they were at the end of their ropes. There was a young mother there. She had a newborn and a toddler with her. The new born was not excited about being there; I knew this because I could hear the baby screaming through my already loud music. I wanted to go help her. Her face looked so worn and tired, and her little girl looked like she just wanted a single hug from her mother. I was so tempted to go up and ask her if she needed help but she left suddenly. She had only been there five minutes.
I was watching a popular tv show yesterday. It's usually one of my favourites, in my top five at least. But I was having a hard time getting into it. The main character has a social awkwardness about him that he's not aware of and the way he treats other people is only acceptable because it's a tv show, it's not real. But I guess I forgot about that invincible tv show rule because everything he did to everyone just made me hurt worse. There was a look on this woman's face the whole half an hour that was ripping at my heart. I finally changed the channel.
I've been thinking a lot lately about people. Why do we only accept the few that we do? What makes us "hate" someone we don't know? Why do we have cliques? Why are there certain people designated to be left behind? Why do we hate?
I'm not going to lie, I've done my share of laughing, excluding, making fun of, and poking fun but it's been a while. I mean, I've been out of sixth grade for... what… seven years now? I just really don't understand. I'm finding that out more and more lately. There is too much in this world that I don't understand. It's like I'm realizing this all at once and believe me, it's a tough pill to swallow. I find myself thinking more these past months than I have in my entire life. I never knew thoughts produced so many tears, but mine seem to.
Although I am one of the most pro-personal space people out there, I find myself fighting the urge to the lonely, picked on ones I see at the college everyday. Maybe it's because I'm finding out more and more of what I have in common with them. Maybe I'm trying to prepare myself for what seems like the inevitable. Whatever it is I can't say I hate it. This new empathy I'm experiencing is, believe it or not, a good thing. I just wish it all wouldn't hit me so fast. As hard as I try, I can't cry for everyone at once.

her special civilain service should die.

So i went to bed really really really late last night, i mean we're talking around 3:30. and because of that i woke up about an hour and a half later than i wanted. causing me to miss my church. so i did some quick thinking and decided to go to church with trevor at his college ward. easy as that. so i was on my way to the church at about 10:40. it's a beautiful morning, i had stars playing on my stereo. i was feeling pretty good when all of a sudden the massive silver truck next to me honks twice. i look over and it's this fake blonde hair lady with sunglasses on. at first i thought i knew her and she was just being funny but then i realized she's flailing her hands as if she was imitating texting and i see her mouth "DONT' TEXT WHILE YOU'RE DRIVING!" i have zero idea how i was reacting to her up until that point (i actually think i was smiling like an idiot, i might have waved) but i do know once i caught on to her little charade i was pissed. my smile dropped and i looked straight ahead as she drove on.
k first of all let me say this, i was not texting when this happened. i was merely holding my phone in my right hand on the steering wheel. so lets say that again; both of my hands were on the wheel. i was looking straight ahead, zero swirving, i wasn't even speeding for crying out loud! how did she know i didn't just have my phone on speaker and i was talking with my great grandma hector about her poppie garden?
that lady could have caused a few wrecks with her special civilain service by causing two drivers to take their eyes off the wheel. it wasn't until i was distracted by her that i started swirving into her lane. honestly, she ruined my entire church experience for me.
oh and the best part is she sped up after getting after me to switch into my lane causing us to be lane buddies at the next red light.
most awkward driving experience of my life.

Maria's Infinite Playlist... I wish.

So I saw Nick and Nora's Infinite Play List tonight. Have you ever seen a movie that gets you so wrapped up in the story line that you find yourself making a mental note on how to alter your current life to mimic that movie? I have. A lot actually.

I remember the first time I saw The Count Of Monte Cristo. I was wrapped up in that movie for weeks. Although, I don't recall trying to alter myself to fit Edmond's charactor... ok so maybe this example doesn't fit. But still, this happens to me. And not just over movies, over books too.

I remember the first time i read Towers of Brierly (it's a sappy mormon love story book, I don't recommend it to any of you who are above sixth grade and have surpassed aspiring to acquire a fairy tale romance) I wanted to move to Ireland, find me a Gavin and frolic in the moors with his handicap older sister Effie.

Aaaanyway... this happened to me again tonight. I want to be Nora. I want to have the long crazy wavy dark hair. I want to wear wet eyeliner and red lipstick. I want the perfectly straight teeth and the odd, almost pretty face. I want to be a good best friend again, one who will treaten to beat up three gay guys if they harm my friend. Plus it wouldn't hurt to have a famous dad, like she does.

Yeah I've just realized this is a pointless, self centered post. Apologies. But I couldn't help myself... I need to say these things.

Number of times the word "I" appeared in this blog: 18. Including the one on this line.

Oh p.s. I'm going to be dying my hair dark this week aaand I(now 20 "I"s... 21) don't want you guys to think it's because of this movie. I've (22) actually been planning to dye it for a while now. Just so you know...


oh and p.p.s. the movie wasn't that amazing... i just got really fond of the idea of running around new york as a famous girl with my music soul mate.

sunset to night.

I take a seat on the warm concrete steps
And easily make friends with the insects
I plan to sit a while.
Slowly I give her my cue, I smile.
As I raise my chin to the sky
My soul separates and alleviates
As my sins float up. They fly.

Close your eyes, she whispers
She takes my hands within hers
And drains the poison of my tips.
Out them all the angry poison slips
Erased by the cooling, colourful sky.

Dancing in freedom, my errors
Swirling into place, the terrors
Create paths of breathtaking light
Purples and reds so bright
They paint so perfect. so right.

Making beauty of hate, making love of mistakes
How is it they know the magic of the sky?
Ask as much as you want, my child,
You were never meant to know why.

blue eyes.

There was a girl behind the glass
She caught my attention as I passed.
She was beautiful by man's definition
But in her face, something was missing.
Her pale blue eyes searched my soul.
Fighting to keep my emotions in control,
I looked away for only a second
but those heavy eyes called me. They beckoned.
Turning back I saw it all,
Her eyes held every pain, every fall.
I'd never seen so much ache,
In such a purely startled gaze
Those worn out eyes witnessed their wars
But the hurt was locked behind her lidded doors.
I wondered what could have caused that stare.
The girl's eyes behind the glass knew i was all too aware
And as she slowly started to cry
I felt wet below my eye
She started whispering something I didn't want to hear,
So I turned my back and walked away from the mirror.

perma-bruised

This is the girl who never learns
She waits in line and takes her turns
For rides she knows will do her harm
Will snap her neck and break her arm
And as this horrific scene plays out
As her mother screams and shouts
The little girl waits, smiles, and stays
These terrible tricks become her ways
And when these rides finally end
The little girl will try to mend
The broken snapped and torn parts
But they've worn her broken heart
The little girl forever old and used
Her flawless skin, perma-bruised
she now mans those ruining rides
And if you look her in the eyes
She captures you to wait your turn
So she can laugh as you never learn

i fell asleep writing this last night.

i'm faling asleep
i think i wanted it this way
all the toys are used and out
but none will let me play.
my dry eyes beg for wetter days
where one could solely walk away.
he steps, like notes, to my favourite songs
and he wandered until he found my ways.

if only this was real, he said
by cuping my chin in his hand
you'd make a good woman and me a man,
we'd perfectly fit their unthought out plan,
please don't bother tring to understand
just play the part with me for a while.

taking off our shoes we walked for miles
the moon cast shadows protected our feet.
the desert painted mirages with it's blistering heat
causing us to never even question the scene.

and when we arrive, thirsty and panting
who will be there to give us breath?
no one. we will wander further until all that finds us is a dirty, solemn, premature death.

chocolate and child prodegies

it's almost basically one o'clock and i couldn't get more bored. soo, i'm going to tell you a bed time story.

once upon a time there was a girl named maria. she woke up an hour late causing her to be an hour and a half late to work. after working for half the time she was supposed to, she came home only to sit on her butt alllll fuhreaking day long. after working up her courage to finally work out for a mere 20 minutes. following that she returned to her sitting, except this time she was responsible for another person: her little sister. this so called "babysitting" started at 7. it is now one and her current predicament contains a spoonful of peanut butter, beyond dry contacts, and oprah on the tv telling of child prodigies. nothing makes me feel more productive or useful to my world, country, and family knowing that out there, there's some four year old child composing the next beethoven's 5th symphony. to top it all off, i really really really really really want a brownie. these kids are inventing the cure for cancer at the age of 12 and me, being almost 19, i can barely curb my own addictions to fattening foods.

alright so that wasn't really a bed time story. more like day recap ending in a pile of pitty me and my sad existance spiel. apologies.

beer flavoured crayons.

so i'm very tempted to do a play by play of my yesterday buuut seeing as how the world wide web really could care less what time i ate dinner or how many cups of ice cream i downed in one minute, i'll stick to the "interesting" stuff.

before i can tell the real story here, i'm going to have to do a tad bit of recapping: two days ago trevor, my boyfriend, his sister asked him if he would teach her primary class. being the gentleman that he is, he really counldn't say no. so he agreed to try and teach the throng of four year olds about the LDS temples. knowing how much he reaaaally didn't want to do this, i agreed to help him. so after i went to my church and ate my ritual sunday dinner of some type of over dry roast and not so mashed potatoes i headed over to his rescue.

there were only three of them. wait, four. one girl and three boys. one of the boys thought it necessary to make noise and move around alot, his name was jesse. the other two boys had to be the youngest in their families. the one never said anything. he just smiled. he had the cutest dimpled smile ever too, with huge bright blue eyes. his head was kinda big though... haha. the other boy always had a very very contimplative look on his face. like he knew what we had to say would actually mean something someday but he wanted to know the meaning now. strangely enough, that kid had a mohawk. i never learned his name. the most interesting thing about that kid though, was his work. we gave them paper and crayons to colour but mohawk kid used a pen to carefully colour in the heart in the middle of his paper. and when we invited everyone to draw hands on the backs of their papers, mohawk kid drew a good dozen very precise outlines of his hand all over the back of his paper.
i didn't know four year olds could pay that much attention or hold that much concentration over an hour. and when we let them draw on the chalk board he quitely chose the very edge of the board and instead of scribbling like the others he carefully drew a door with a handle and all. when i asked him what the door led to, he gave me quite the description of this door that belonged on his house. honestly, i was stunned. that kid amazed me.
now, for the very typical four year old of the day; jesse, the loud kid who moved alot. we let each of the kids pick two crayons to start out with while colouring their pictures. jesse chose green and brown. he picks up his brown craying, basically sticks it up his noise and announces that it smells like beer. first: what four year old child is so familiar with beer that he associates it with crayons!? second: what four year old child even knows what it smells like?! me and trevor just kind of looked at each other, awkwardly and told the kid that beer is bad for you and that it doesn't smell like beer because he doesn't even know what beer smells like. the kid, jesse i should call him, starts off on this tale about how he does too know about beer because his daddy drinks it aaalllll tttthhhuuuhhh tiiimmmeeeee. mean while, the three other beyond naive children are quite literally drinking all this in. i can just imagine them going home and explaining to their mommys' over dinner that they learned about beer in church today. lovely.
oh this jesse kid also thought it a good idea to climb under the little table and try to look under my dress.
yeah, never again...

i guess i'm starting?

so i guess myspace's blog feature just isn't cutting it for me anymore so i'm going to try and play with this a while, see where i get.

thank you to becky for pointing me in this direction, hopefully i stay here.

i wasn't really planning on blogging right away... i could have thought this through better..
maybe later.