Poker Faces, Phones, People, Pasts

   Alright, here I am. I don't recognize this place but I definitely have a sense that I've been here before. Now, I'm standing in a hallway filled with doors. All are locked but I have the keys, and I can only open one. Hands clenching, I ponder, why only one door? Why not two, three, or four? Do I choose the one closest to me or the one furthest away? The one who's door has all the answers or the one who's path will lead me to the answers.

   Alright, here I am. I wonder if you ever think of me; you probably do. But your poker face masks your feelings-oh so well. I still think of you, sadly. But not with anger or pride, but instead with a nostalgic pull at those memories. 

           Alright, enough of that sap. The tree has more to offer like leaves, twigs, and shade. Oh, it's also beautiful. Did I fail to mention its beauty? How rude of me, the tree is very vain so I suppose I'll mention it has the key to my heart. 

    Alright, I know I'm not making sense. I make sense to me though, and I guess that's all that matters. Poor Eleanor Rigby, such lonely people. You're not outdated, or forgotten. You're just under-appreciated. I appreciate you though. Thanks for your existence!  Kudos on just plummeting through the vast sea, like an otter or penguin, delving fast and far into the unknown. You would do that. I envy you for that. I couldn't even open a damn door. 

An Atypical Rant on Society and Teenage Dating

How does society go from eloquently, well thought out phrases and stanzas to profess one's love, with pages of ink splattering, intense and frenzied writing to now just a text message saying, "Heyyy," or worse, the "waz up?" conversation starter? I believe that if a guy wants to court me, he'll have to work at it. It will be a process that takes patience and persistance. Obviously, this will sort out the ones who truly care from the ones who just like my appearance. The end of high school is fast approaching (17 days!!! but hey, who's counting? :p) and I am very excited for the future. I can't wait til I can run again. Damn ankle. Running seems to be something so incredible to me so let's pray that my ankle makes a speedy recovery. 

         As I write this, it's like I am talking to someone in my head; how incredible. The brain perplexes me as it's such a miraculous instrument. 

I noticed also today that people LOVE to feel like another, at least one other person, "gets" them. As a culture, being alone is seen with a bad connotation, making one feel deserted and misunderstood. I, on the other hand, love being difficult, different, and unique, yet have my share of doubts every once in a while, especially on nights like tonight. Send me positive love. 

A Day's Meaning

     What is a day but a moment in time. A specific moment in time that in less than 23 hours will be gone and now is remembered as just a memory. For us, days can seem like they will never end, but they do, just as the sun sets and rises each day. For that fact I am certain. The universe, however, sees each day as a split second. It'll keep going on, while for us it might always be vivid in our memory. I'm sure we've all had one of those magnificent days that we relive in our minds over and over for fear of forgetting or worse, never having such a day again. 

     I can't remember which day of the week, what time of the day, or what exact year it was, but I have had one of those days-the kind I will always cherish. What's most important, to me anyway, is the people I was with that day and the feelings I experienced. I will always remember those details as I am right brain dominant. Everyone is different though and I do not claim to be like anyone else. Actually, I am quite unique. Weird, even. But that is fine by me. For as cliche as this is, I'd rather die an original then a copy. 

    Reading The Glass Menagerie and The Tent, both books proving how thoughtful writers are. Maybe I have that capability to present my philosophies and values in a fictional piece of work...I sure am trying to. I really need to FINISH at least one novel or short story. I can always start things but the follow up is more difficult. Oh well. 

    Also, I love 80's teen movies. :) 

   Enjoy the sun!

Ophelia. Earth Day

Watch this scene. It describes so much. :)

Now.

I think that now, right now, is the most perfect time to be alive. Why? you may ask. 

Well, I'll tell you why. Cause at this moment I have a heart full of love, an intelligent head resting on my strong shoulders with dreams spanning farther than the stars, racing through my mind. I miss Proscenium already. 

War is peace; so it goes, hamlet, and other violent ends

Nothing is either good nor bad until we make it so. So it goes. 

Depressing thought right? Think about it. All I seem to do recently is think. Today, for instance, I was reflecting on the fact that opening night of Titanic is in 3 days and how fast my senior year of Proscenium has gone. This has spiraled into a slew of other connected thoughts, making me more confused than ever before, and causing the bittersweetness of this last show to be something more obscene and even a bit saddening. I don't want to be sad that it ends, I wish to be happy that it happened. And I am. As last night was the first run through with the orchestra, I'm pleased that it sounds good as of yet. I'm excited to see/be a part of the results of over a year's hard work for many of the people involved with Proscenium. 

For now, I shall leave you all with a Hamlet quotation: 

"What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and movement..."

Sugar high. Damn bunnies.

ToomuchcandyAKAjellybeansandchocolatemarshmallowbunniesandeggsandthosedamntasty

peepsaremakingmybraininsaneandIhavenotimetothinkandbelievethattypingwithout

spacesisreallyhardandIcannotbelievehowmucheffortit'stakingformetonot

placespacesbetweenmywords,It'sjustthatmybrainisonelongrandomrunon

sentencewithallthesedifferentthoughtsrightnow.Unbelievable. 

Happy end of Easter.