And a merry new year! :3
2012 and the future are coming soon and coming very fast indeed, and I don't want to be left behind!
Silence to Sound is going to be going through quite a few changes that will make it friendlier, enjoyable, and just plain fun to be on!
One of the new changes is the fish pond! You may have noticed that as you move your mouse over their pond they will swim up to your cursor, so click to drop in some fish food! Can you find the white fish?
Keep your eyes open for
NEW AND IMPROVED
changes and additions to keep your happy level up and your BOR-E-D level down.
Over and out,
-Silent Tigress
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Gosh, this is overdue-'Just Out Of Reach'
Today, during announcements, but after standing up and saying the pledge,
A low buzz entered my hearing and dots swam before my eyes, covering the world so I couldn't see anything
But blackness.
The usual headache didn't happen, but my head felt heavy, as if it were filled with cotton.
I stayed there a little after everyone had sat down, swaying where I stood
Ever so slightly.
I could hear people talking, I knew where I was and where everything else should be,
But I couldn't see anything.
It's kind of like when it's dark outside
Really dark.
You hold up your hand to your face, and you know where it is in contrast to your face,
But you just can't see it.
Just out of reach.
So I stood there, not freaking out like I usually do, but calmly waiting.
For what, I didn't know.
My sight might not come back.
But I knew it would. And it did.
As my eyes and head cleared, I suddenly felt a little dizzy.
I sat down and shook my head, blinking a little.
I realized how close I had to come to realizing what some people experience every single day.
But some of them never even got to see at all.
So as I sat there, one thought swam around my head;
I'm lucky.
I can reach just far enough.
A low buzz entered my hearing and dots swam before my eyes, covering the world so I couldn't see anything
But blackness.
The usual headache didn't happen, but my head felt heavy, as if it were filled with cotton.
I stayed there a little after everyone had sat down, swaying where I stood
Ever so slightly.
I could hear people talking, I knew where I was and where everything else should be,
But I couldn't see anything.
It's kind of like when it's dark outside
Really dark.
You hold up your hand to your face, and you know where it is in contrast to your face,
But you just can't see it.
Just out of reach.
So I stood there, not freaking out like I usually do, but calmly waiting.
For what, I didn't know.
My sight might not come back.
But I knew it would. And it did.
As my eyes and head cleared, I suddenly felt a little dizzy.
I sat down and shook my head, blinking a little.
I realized how close I had to come to realizing what some people experience every single day.
But some of them never even got to see at all.
So as I sat there, one thought swam around my head;
I'm lucky.
I can reach just far enough.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Children
Sorry for not writing for so long, but that's because I'm a child.
We forget things.
Our brains aren't widespread enough,
Our eyes haven't seen enough mistakes to remember,
Our cares less imminent.
In my eyes, children are and entirely different family.
There's something special about kids.
The way we're willing to imagine, create, express, and explore
(Most of this done without one thought for the consequences)
The way some of us see magic EVERYwhere, no matter whether it be a fairy or just a butterfly flying around in the garden. The way we draw exactly what's on our mind, though some of it may overlap what has been done before (Like crayons on a painted wall) and how we can see our rooms, the lobby, the playground, anywhere as a magical world ready to be explored.
Thats where we CREATE.
When we IMAGINE, we see other things that didn't seem important enough to be thought about.
"The planets circle around the sun, sweetheart."
"But what if they don't want to?"
"Well, the sun is bigger then them."
"Well, you're bigger than me. But I don't always want to listen to you."
Imaginary friends can vary from a identical twin to an
"Alien from mars with a pet unicorn that eats rainbows and a bubble with a mouse inside surrounded by a green whale which ate them all up because they were being noisy."
And, the way we can explore everywhere and everything.
The closet in the guest room? Oh, it's already been used for putting clothes into. And we've lived in this house for 3 years. Surely you've already been there?
Oh no, this time we're pirates and the closet is a secret island on a treasure map. we've never been there before.
And of course, the woods out back are always more terrifying when there's a dragon stalking you.
But under the bed has never and will never be explored. No one wants to go down there. Uncharted waters, for now and forevermore.
And our ability to EXPRESS. (Because no opinion is more important than your own.)
Well, I know that yes, this blue IS nice, but I was thinking more one wall outer-space aliens planets and spaceships.
And the one with the windows would be all gray, cuz it's a prison and the windows are the only nice things over there anyways.
And of course that one would be all like a forest, with vines and trees and monnkeys and tigers and snake and elephants and ants and EVERYTHING.
And the door would be part of a rainbow, with some flowers and pirates and treasures and a unicorn. That's my pet unicorn, and I need him so I can fly away after stealing the treasure.
But not many adults like that kind of idea.
And of course, the Christmas list.
Books
Pillows
Gum
Money
Remote-controlled rocket ship
Cars
Stuffed animals
Bobble heads
Glow-in-the-dark planets and stars
.....And the additional 486 items beside. I mean, he's SANTA! He's magic! He gives presents!
And I NEED all this stuff!
So, kids are truly and always will be one of a kind.
And we never were babies. Nope. None of that diaper stuff. I never wore diapers. And Im never gonna grew up. Cuz that's Gramma and Grampa's job.
Not mine.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Thankgiving
What is everyone thankful for?
I am thankful for my friends,
my enemies,
my home,
my iPod,
my cat and my chickens,
the food on my table, (if it tastes good)
my education,
my personality,
my country,
my allowance, (:P :) :D)
my good spirit,
my internet connection,
and last of all but not least,
the way i just seem to be lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky.
I must be, if I have so much to be grateful for.
I am thankful for my friends,
my enemies,
my home,
my iPod,
my cat and my chickens,
the food on my table, (if it tastes good)
my education,
my personality,
my country,
my allowance, (:P :) :D)
my good spirit,
my internet connection,
and last of all but not least,
the way i just seem to be lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky.
I must be, if I have so much to be grateful for.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Be yourself
Be yourself.
Love your friends.
You are who you are.
Be happy.
Life's to good to waste!
No one knows the answers to everything.
Think deeply.
There is one essential thing in life, and you need it.
Cheer people up. :)
Choose good friends.
Always have hope.
Don't be scared to do something different
6 Word Bios
It's hard to sum up life
I make stories out of everything.
I have always absolutely loved cats.
There is a story behind everything.
Magic will always be real everywhere.
Friendship makes the cold feel warmer.
I strive to be only myself.
Books are doorways to other worlds.
Nothing ever goes to my plans.
I hope to be myself forever.
Every event is worth a story.
People think about today and tomorrow.
Did almost everyone forget about yesterday?
Everyone except me most always forgets.
It's hard, being who I am.
Sometimes I don't need answers, just questions.
I make stories out of everything.
I have always absolutely loved cats.
There is a story behind everything.
Magic will always be real everywhere.
Friendship makes the cold feel warmer.
I strive to be only myself.
Books are doorways to other worlds.
Nothing ever goes to my plans.
I hope to be myself forever.
Every event is worth a story.
People think about today and tomorrow.
Did almost everyone forget about yesterday?
Everyone except me most always forgets.
It's hard, being who I am.
Sometimes I don't need answers, just questions.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
I Can Move My Spirit
I stand in the bathroom, goosebumps on my skin, towel round my body, glasses off my closed eyes, as I breathe deeply, letting the air flow through me.
I take my deepest breath yet, gathering up my being in my chest, my heart, and then, I push my spirit down and out, feeling it fall through my body. It flows outwards as it hits the floor, scattering into a thousand pieces like a broken glass that slipped through my fingers like sand. I stand there, feeling empty as a hollow snail shell, until I can't take it anymore and have to inhale, summoning my soul back again, into a whole that fits almost perfectly into my body. Some parts of me are missing. I can feel the gaps. Places where my heart went into someone or something I loved, and either I never saw them again, or my love was never returned. I have always felt my soul within me, and I do all I can to make it my own.
Sometimes I feel like I'm making magic. I'm twelve years old, yet I still own many stuffed animals. Each one has a name, a personality, a story. Whenever I look at them, I see them, and I see who I made them to be. Sometimes when I look at them, I see me. Once, as I looked at one of my favorites, a stuffed penguin, a voice said
"But this isn't really who you think he is. He's really just a toy penguin. You saw all the other ones just like him at the store. He's really no different than all those other ones. You just invented who he is. He's not really there, you just think he is."
That voice scared me a little. I could feel part of my spirit falling, sliding out of me. The bit that was all my stuffed animals identities. I struggled to hold myself together. I could feel my faith falling, slipping away. Then I looked into my penguins eyes. Pieces of his stories came rushing back. Who he was, how I had chosen him, how much I loved him. The piece of me fell back into place. I was fine.
But it scared me. I had had a Realization. Every now and then, I see the real truth, how real everything is. Sometimes they're really scary.
Once, when I was about six or seven, as I sat on the toilet, wrapped in a towel after my bath, I was quietly thinking about what would happen to me. I started to cry, I was so scared. My Dad came in, and he asked me what the matter was. Still upset, I stumbled through how scared I was feeling. He asked why I felt scared. I told him that I didn't want to die. I knew that one day, young or old, all my experiences, memories, identity, will turn to dust and be unknown, and much of myself would be forgotten when I die.I didn't know where I would go, because I didn't know if Heaven was real. And if it was, who would be able to tell us? I was just feeling lonely, I guess. My dad told me that when he was little, he felt the same way sometimes. He told me that however we look at it, someday something irreversible will happen. But life goes on, until then. I stopped crying. I relaxed a little. But every now and then, I remember, and I truly become afraid.
Other ones were less scary. You know how sometimes when you say a word over and over, it starts to sound funny in your mouth? Well, sometimes that would happen to me, but it would be me actually SEEING an object as if for the first time.
Another one was kind of creepy. I forgot who my little brother was. Sure, I remembered his name and what he looked like, but it was like remembering someone I had just met once. That was weird.
But the scariest one of all came, in all places, (for the third time in this collection of words) in the bathroom. I forgot who I was. My name felt funny and weird in my head and in my mouth. My body felt like someone else's, someone I was seeing for the first time. My memories, my experiences, felt like scenes from a movie I had watched. My identity felt different. It was like stepping outside of myself and actually Looking at myself for what and who I really was.
......To be continued......
I take my deepest breath yet, gathering up my being in my chest, my heart, and then, I push my spirit down and out, feeling it fall through my body. It flows outwards as it hits the floor, scattering into a thousand pieces like a broken glass that slipped through my fingers like sand. I stand there, feeling empty as a hollow snail shell, until I can't take it anymore and have to inhale, summoning my soul back again, into a whole that fits almost perfectly into my body. Some parts of me are missing. I can feel the gaps. Places where my heart went into someone or something I loved, and either I never saw them again, or my love was never returned. I have always felt my soul within me, and I do all I can to make it my own.
Sometimes I feel like I'm making magic. I'm twelve years old, yet I still own many stuffed animals. Each one has a name, a personality, a story. Whenever I look at them, I see them, and I see who I made them to be. Sometimes when I look at them, I see me. Once, as I looked at one of my favorites, a stuffed penguin, a voice said
"But this isn't really who you think he is. He's really just a toy penguin. You saw all the other ones just like him at the store. He's really no different than all those other ones. You just invented who he is. He's not really there, you just think he is."
That voice scared me a little. I could feel part of my spirit falling, sliding out of me. The bit that was all my stuffed animals identities. I struggled to hold myself together. I could feel my faith falling, slipping away. Then I looked into my penguins eyes. Pieces of his stories came rushing back. Who he was, how I had chosen him, how much I loved him. The piece of me fell back into place. I was fine.
But it scared me. I had had a Realization. Every now and then, I see the real truth, how real everything is. Sometimes they're really scary.
Once, when I was about six or seven, as I sat on the toilet, wrapped in a towel after my bath, I was quietly thinking about what would happen to me. I started to cry, I was so scared. My Dad came in, and he asked me what the matter was. Still upset, I stumbled through how scared I was feeling. He asked why I felt scared. I told him that I didn't want to die. I knew that one day, young or old, all my experiences, memories, identity, will turn to dust and be unknown, and much of myself would be forgotten when I die.I didn't know where I would go, because I didn't know if Heaven was real. And if it was, who would be able to tell us? I was just feeling lonely, I guess. My dad told me that when he was little, he felt the same way sometimes. He told me that however we look at it, someday something irreversible will happen. But life goes on, until then. I stopped crying. I relaxed a little. But every now and then, I remember, and I truly become afraid.
Other ones were less scary. You know how sometimes when you say a word over and over, it starts to sound funny in your mouth? Well, sometimes that would happen to me, but it would be me actually SEEING an object as if for the first time.
Another one was kind of creepy. I forgot who my little brother was. Sure, I remembered his name and what he looked like, but it was like remembering someone I had just met once. That was weird.
But the scariest one of all came, in all places, (for the third time in this collection of words) in the bathroom. I forgot who I was. My name felt funny and weird in my head and in my mouth. My body felt like someone else's, someone I was seeing for the first time. My memories, my experiences, felt like scenes from a movie I had watched. My identity felt different. It was like stepping outside of myself and actually Looking at myself for what and who I really was.
......To be continued......
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Single Star
Before dawn, I awoke to find the world muffled in a damp fog, lit only by the orange glow of street lamps.
To the east, the sky was lit bright blue for the oncoming of the sun.
But to the west, the sky lay a midnight and mysterious blue.
Floating about the boughs of one pine tree, I realized I saw a single, bright star, twinkling before the dawn arose and shouldered it aside for the path of the sun.
But as I sit here writing this, it is sinking lower and lower and the sky is getting brighter and brighter....
And soon my little star will fade in the mist
Until tonight.
To the east, the sky was lit bright blue for the oncoming of the sun.
But to the west, the sky lay a midnight and mysterious blue.
Floating about the boughs of one pine tree, I realized I saw a single, bright star, twinkling before the dawn arose and shouldered it aside for the path of the sun.
But as I sit here writing this, it is sinking lower and lower and the sky is getting brighter and brighter....
And soon my little star will fade in the mist
Until tonight.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Black and White
Sometimes I think that whoever realized that
Chocolate and milk
Go fabulously together
Is someone I must be thankful to.
Whoever made chocolate cake
Must have made it with milk specially in mind
And I must appreciate them.
Whoever decided that cake is a good celebatory birthday accessory
I must thank.
I just had my birthday whoopie pie
And while the grown-ups are talking
I will pour myself a cup of cold milk
In my favorite cup
And with some chocolate still in my mouth
I will drink
In Victory
Because I am 12
And never before
Have Black and White
Tasted so good together.
Chocolate and milk
Go fabulously together
Is someone I must be thankful to.
Whoever made chocolate cake
Must have made it with milk specially in mind
And I must appreciate them.
Whoever decided that cake is a good celebatory birthday accessory
I must thank.
I just had my birthday whoopie pie
And while the grown-ups are talking
I will pour myself a cup of cold milk
In my favorite cup
And with some chocolate still in my mouth
I will drink
In Victory
Because I am 12
And never before
Have Black and White
Tasted so good together.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
When you go for a walk
And I'm still asleep, make sure you leave a note.
But don't leave it somewhere where I probably will look,
Put it somewhere you know I'll look.
And make it interesting!
Places where you know I'll look;
On my forehead
In or on the toilet
On top or under the iPad
Inside your laptop
Inside my underclothes drawer
And maybe, just maaaaaaaaybe,
Inside the Cookie Jar
(But that's another probably not.)
But don't leave it somewhere where I probably will look,
Put it somewhere you know I'll look.
And make it interesting!
Places where you know I'll look;
On my forehead
In or on the toilet
On top or under the iPad
Inside your laptop
Inside my underclothes drawer
And maybe, just maaaaaaaaybe,
Inside the Cookie Jar
(But that's another probably not.)
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Forgotten in the mist
Yesterday someone woke up late.
They woke up only in time to paint the dawn,
But then all the others colors had been neglected,
And they need to be painted for life to go on.
So they just opened their refrigerator for some iced water to think it over.
As they opened the refrigerator, cold air rushed out and over the world.
They cried out in horror, for now you couldn't see anything.
Which, they realized, was exactly what they needed.
They then set to coloring the world
But forgot to paint some whales in the ocean
So I didn't see any
Yesterday morning
Because someone woke up late.
They woke up only in time to paint the dawn,
But then all the others colors had been neglected,
And they need to be painted for life to go on.
So they just opened their refrigerator for some iced water to think it over.
As they opened the refrigerator, cold air rushed out and over the world.
They cried out in horror, for now you couldn't see anything.
Which, they realized, was exactly what they needed.
They then set to coloring the world
But forgot to paint some whales in the ocean
So I didn't see any
Yesterday morning
Because someone woke up late.
Autumn Sunset
The green trees mark the edge of my yard
Meeting the blue skies
That turn to pink
And red that meets
A fiery orange that caresses
The fiery sun as it hugs the horizon
Blazing the sky into colors
Of the center of the universe
Purple clouds roll in
From the east
In all their size and true colors
As the sun sets
In Autumn.
Meeting the blue skies
That turn to pink
And red that meets
A fiery orange that caresses
The fiery sun as it hugs the horizon
Blazing the sky into colors
Of the center of the universe
Purple clouds roll in
From the east
In all their size and true colors
As the sun sets
In Autumn.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Jean Jacket
There's a jean jacket slung over my chair in my room.
It's supposed to be too small, it fit me in third grade.
I wore it for picture day.
I still have the picture. It had a fluffy collar that I was shoving in everyone's faces, insisting they feel the fluffiness.
I forgot my glasses that day. Now, I still have the jacket.
The collar I took off and used it somewhere, but I haven't felt compelled to look for it yet. It has two chest pockets and two pocket pockets.
Then, the pockets were empty. Now, it contains surprises.
In one chest pocket is a paintbrush that does not fit. The other has some small pencils and a whistle. The actual collar, when you take off the extra fluff, is just plain denim. I've adorned it with five pins, to add some excitement.
Tomorrow is picture day. I'm going to wear my jean jacket and dangly earrings like you've never seen before and you probably won't find in anywhere. I'm going to wear a necklace, and maybe a mood ring.
I'm wearing my blue pants with silver stitching.
For shoes, I'm wearing my sneakers, and lucky socks just in case you were curious. ;)
I hope you're not curious enough to be wondering about my underwear, which I'm not telling you.
Shirt wise? My rainbow tye-die (die as in die if you don't like my t-shirt) t-shirt.
But it's all underneath my five-pinned, collar-missing, pockets full, not too small, jean jacket that fit me in third grade.
It's supposed to be too small, it fit me in third grade.
I wore it for picture day.
I still have the picture. It had a fluffy collar that I was shoving in everyone's faces, insisting they feel the fluffiness.
I forgot my glasses that day. Now, I still have the jacket.
The collar I took off and used it somewhere, but I haven't felt compelled to look for it yet. It has two chest pockets and two pocket pockets.
Then, the pockets were empty. Now, it contains surprises.
In one chest pocket is a paintbrush that does not fit. The other has some small pencils and a whistle. The actual collar, when you take off the extra fluff, is just plain denim. I've adorned it with five pins, to add some excitement.
Tomorrow is picture day. I'm going to wear my jean jacket and dangly earrings like you've never seen before and you probably won't find in anywhere. I'm going to wear a necklace, and maybe a mood ring.
I'm wearing my blue pants with silver stitching.
For shoes, I'm wearing my sneakers, and lucky socks just in case you were curious. ;)
I hope you're not curious enough to be wondering about my underwear, which I'm not telling you.
Shirt wise? My rainbow tye-die (die as in die if you don't like my t-shirt) t-shirt.
But it's all underneath my five-pinned, collar-missing, pockets full, not too small, jean jacket that fit me in third grade.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
9/11
On September 11th, ten years ago today,
Four planes were hijacked by terrorists.
Two of the four crash-landed in to each of the Twin Towers, or World Trade Centers, killing many people inside of the building and all of the passengers in the two planes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wk9uTjRNdVI
-A film of the collapse of the two twin towers.
One of the other planes crashed into part of the Pentagon, also killing a few people and all of the passengers.
The last plane never hit its intended target.
The passengers realized what was happening and took over the plane, steering it away from the White House and crashed it into a field.
But there are some people that go out of their way to say that 9/11 was a hoax.
In the movie above, I heard people screaming, utterly terrified.
But there's another movie, that shows you the collapse with smooth saxophone jazz music playing.
I think that that is extremely disrespectful.
The death toll was estimated at 6,000 and these people are busy saying it was a hoax.
People, please have a moment of silence for all that was lost ten years ago.
Please read every period I write. They are the silence.
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I wrote exactly 6,000 periods. Each one counts as a person that died in 9 11. If the toll is less, than may each person get two periods. If there were more, than I hope my periods were enough.
PS; 9/11 has the same number as 'Dial 9-1-1.'
It's not funny that the emergency number is the same as a huge emergency.
Bless all the souls that died on the fateful day ten years ago, and hope for the families that suffered losses.
I let the water run down my shiny new boots, admiring the effect the water droplets gave my flowery bogs.
I then cheerfully sprayed the water up into the air for no reason except for-
Ahhhhhh, a double rainbow :)---> ((
See, rainbows exist Everywhere, but like ultraviolet light, water is needed to expose the true beauty of these prismatic arches.
So, next time you are hosing your car down, give those rainbows a chance to expose themselves as the true children's smiles they are.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
A wave of sound
I put on my mom's boots and put my hand on the doorknob.
I opened the door, and my ears were overswept with a wave of sound.
The wind rustling every leaf on every tree, the crickets chirping loudest.
The ground squelched gently underneath my feet.
The gate clicked open at my touch, and as I walked to the chicken coop I heard it
shuttttterrrr-click behind me.
I shut the door to the chicken coop and heard a gentle cluck or two from the chickens.
I squelched my way back to the gate and made a
Click...Shuttterrr clickckck...
And I shut the back door on the voice of the night.
I opened the door, and my ears were overswept with a wave of sound.
The wind rustling every leaf on every tree, the crickets chirping loudest.
The ground squelched gently underneath my feet.
The gate clicked open at my touch, and as I walked to the chicken coop I heard it
shuttttterrrr-click behind me.
I shut the door to the chicken coop and heard a gentle cluck or two from the chickens.
I squelched my way back to the gate and made a
Click...Shuttterrr clickckck...
And I shut the back door on the voice of the night.
Last night at who knows what time
Last night I went to bed and stayed up late listening to music and thinking.
Then, sometime during the night, I realized it was gently raining.
I turned off my headphones and went to sleep.
Then I woke up again sometime later. and noticed
(More like got freaked out by)
The thunder and lightning.
The last thunder boom I heard was a
Boooommmmmm rumblerumblerumble...
BOOOOOM
A boom I could feel in my bones.
I listened for a while.
But as I was drifting off to sleep, I noticed a high squeak/tweet noise that was repeating itself over and over.
Stweet... Stweeeet.... STWEET... Stweeet... Stweet...
I imagined a smal light blue bird hiding, terrified in the not-very-leafy or sheltering bushes outside my window, getting colder and colder and wetter and wetter..... Maybe a baby bird, all alone....
Then, a few minutes later, they stopped.
I waited a few minutes longer, but the stweets did not resume.
As I fell asleep, I imagined the little birdie finding shelter in a small hollow near our house underneath a safe, secure bush safe from rain underneath the high, protective leafy canopy.
I could almost see my dream-birdy smiling.
Then, sometime during the night, I realized it was gently raining.
I turned off my headphones and went to sleep.
Then I woke up again sometime later. and noticed
(More like got freaked out by)
The thunder and lightning.
The last thunder boom I heard was a
Boooommmmmm rumblerumblerumble...
BOOOOOM
A boom I could feel in my bones.
I listened for a while.
But as I was drifting off to sleep, I noticed a high squeak/tweet noise that was repeating itself over and over.
Stweet... Stweeeet.... STWEET... Stweeet... Stweet...
I imagined a smal light blue bird hiding, terrified in the not-very-leafy or sheltering bushes outside my window, getting colder and colder and wetter and wetter..... Maybe a baby bird, all alone....
Then, a few minutes later, they stopped.
I waited a few minutes longer, but the stweets did not resume.
As I fell asleep, I imagined the little birdie finding shelter in a small hollow near our house underneath a safe, secure bush safe from rain underneath the high, protective leafy canopy.
I could almost see my dream-birdy smiling.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Just Because
Just because I have to do it doesn't mean I want to!
Just because the world works that way doesn't mean it always will!
Just because I got hurt doesn't mean I'll bounce back to give you another chance!
Just because I cleaned my room it doesn't mean it will always stay that way!
Just because I want to say something truthful doesn't mean I will!
Just because it's not the truth doesn't mean I won't say it for you!
Just because you said I shouldn't doesn't mean I won't!
Just because you said I don't have to doesn't mean I won't do it!
Just because someone else failed at it doesn't mean I shouldn't try!
Just because it makes you laugh doesn't mean I have to think it's funny!
Just because you told me I had to make a blog post doesn't mean that it will turn out to be something more, less or different from what you expected,
MOM!
;P :) :D
Just because the world works that way doesn't mean it always will!
Just because I got hurt doesn't mean I'll bounce back to give you another chance!
Just because I cleaned my room it doesn't mean it will always stay that way!
Just because I want to say something truthful doesn't mean I will!
Just because it's not the truth doesn't mean I won't say it for you!
Just because you said I shouldn't doesn't mean I won't!
Just because you said I don't have to doesn't mean I won't do it!
Just because someone else failed at it doesn't mean I shouldn't try!
Just because it makes you laugh doesn't mean I have to think it's funny!
Just because you told me I had to make a blog post doesn't mean that it will turn out to be something more, less or different from what you expected,
MOM!
;P :) :D
Friday, August 26, 2011
...
Some silences are louder than a waterfall of criticism.
Others are as quiet as a hug.
Some are very bold silences, while others... They can be as meek as a bad lie.
Some people are silent as long as they live.
Others are so loud even their silences ring in peoples ears.
Some are mere pauses, some are even pregnant but soon give birth to the steady rush and flow of conversations.
Every now and then in my classroom at lunch, in the middle of a loud classroom discussion, everyone stops talking at the same exact moment, but just a moment squeezes past our words that blocked the way before they continue once the air turns green.
Some silences are loud, while others....
Others are just silences.
Others are as quiet as a hug.
Some are very bold silences, while others... They can be as meek as a bad lie.
Some people are silent as long as they live.
Others are so loud even their silences ring in peoples ears.
Some are mere pauses, some are even pregnant but soon give birth to the steady rush and flow of conversations.
Every now and then in my classroom at lunch, in the middle of a loud classroom discussion, everyone stops talking at the same exact moment, but just a moment squeezes past our words that blocked the way before they continue once the air turns green.
Some silences are loud, while others....
Others are just silences.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Sky and ground
According to Greek myth, Prometheus and his brother Epimetheus made the creatures on Earth out of clay. Epimetheus made wild and extraordinary animals, giving them strange and unique features.
But Prometheus made humans with care.
He gave them minds to ask, learn, and explore.
He gave them hands to do what they needed.
He gave them two legs to walk upright, above other creatures.
And he gave them straight, proud backs so they may look up at the sky.
But one day I was walking home, looking at the sidewalk before me, and I thought;
If this myth is true, then why do I slouch so and look at the ground a step in front of me, instead of what lies far ahead?
So I straightened my back and adjusted my gaze.
But if Prometheus made us to look up to the stars, why do so many people look down on the ground they stand on and unhappily think of what could be done to change it, instead of looking up to the distant stars and being humbled and feeling lucky to be where they are?
But Prometheus made humans with care.
He gave them minds to ask, learn, and explore.
He gave them hands to do what they needed.
He gave them two legs to walk upright, above other creatures.
And he gave them straight, proud backs so they may look up at the sky.
But one day I was walking home, looking at the sidewalk before me, and I thought;
If this myth is true, then why do I slouch so and look at the ground a step in front of me, instead of what lies far ahead?
So I straightened my back and adjusted my gaze.
But if Prometheus made us to look up to the stars, why do so many people look down on the ground they stand on and unhappily think of what could be done to change it, instead of looking up to the distant stars and being humbled and feeling lucky to be where they are?
According to an idea,
Aorcicndg to rseeacrh dnoe by Cmidagrbe, it dsone't mtater waht odrer the ltetres in a wrod are, as lnog as the fsrit and lsat ltetres are in thier rghtfiul pacle.
Now ins't taht fsanictanig?
Now ins't taht fsanictanig?
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Fast Food
Would you like our menu, sir?
No, but what are your specials?
Well, we have Fatten-burgers,
And our well-known Horrid-fries.
Then there's always our Obesoda,
And of course our Mutant-Nuggets,
Which are stewed in deceit and lies.
And last of all,
There is our famous Unhealthy Stew.
But if you want something healthy or good,
Sorry, Sir, But there's nothing here for you.
No, but what are your specials?
Well, we have Fatten-burgers,
And our well-known Horrid-fries.
Then there's always our Obesoda,
And of course our Mutant-Nuggets,
Which are stewed in deceit and lies.
And last of all,
There is our famous Unhealthy Stew.
But if you want something healthy or good,
Sorry, Sir, But there's nothing here for you.
Light and Door
If you close a door on Darkness, it's gone.
But
if
you
close
a
door
on
light,
It will shine
Around the edges
And through the cracks.
But
if
you
close
a
door
on
light,
It will shine
Around the edges
And through the cracks.
Pillow
If you were to smell a pillow,
It would smell of
Dreams,
Thoughts,
And Wishes.
(But mostly of Dreams.)
It would smell of
Dreams,
Thoughts,
And Wishes.
(But mostly of Dreams.)
Monday, August 8, 2011
I'd be lying;
I'd be lying if I said 'It's just one wrapper. What's the difference?'
I'd be lying if I said 'It's an animal. It doesn't have feelings.'
I'd be lying if I traded my shorts and t-shirt in for a tank top, mini-skirt, lip gloss, eyeliner, sandals, a scrunchie, contacts, and a matching purse.
I'd be lying if I didn't stand up for my beliefs.
I'd be lying if I never asked questions.
I'd be lying if I did not be truthful.
I'd be lying if I said 'It's an animal. It doesn't have feelings.'
I'd be lying if I traded my shorts and t-shirt in for a tank top, mini-skirt, lip gloss, eyeliner, sandals, a scrunchie, contacts, and a matching purse.
I'd be lying if I didn't stand up for my beliefs.
I'd be lying if I never asked questions.
I'd be lying if I did not be truthful.
To be honest
To be honest; I'd rather save a tree than draw a picture.
To be honest; I'd rather love someone than hate someone.
To be honest; I'd rather stand out and stick firmly to my beliefs than blend in with the crowd and have my identity melt away.
To be honest; I'd rather adopt the puppy that was hurt and needs love than the perfect puppy right beside it.
To be honest; I'd rather swim with the Ocean than swim against it.
To be honest; I'd rather write a really good book that stands by everything I believe in than just a pleaser.
To be honest; I'd rather be honest than lie.
To be honest; I'd rather love someone than hate someone.
To be honest; I'd rather stand out and stick firmly to my beliefs than blend in with the crowd and have my identity melt away.
To be honest; I'd rather adopt the puppy that was hurt and needs love than the perfect puppy right beside it.
To be honest; I'd rather swim with the Ocean than swim against it.
To be honest; I'd rather write a really good book that stands by everything I believe in than just a pleaser.
To be honest; I'd rather be honest than lie.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
I woke up at 5:41 this morning
I woke up at 5:41 this morning and noted the lovely, quiet shade of blue the sky was.
To my delight and pleasure, I soon realized it was gently raining.
Now I have always loved rain, because it is such a comfort to me when sleeping.
And as I stood looking out of a window, my black cat, fur wet from the rain outside, winds in and out and around and through and around my legs,
I think about rain.
Because really; What is rain?
Perhaps the trees give up their moisture to the clouds so that the clouds may cry for the trees, because the trees cannot cry for their lost brothers and sisters, but the clouds can for them.
Maybe rain is the tears of all those who have cried reused, raining down every now and then to remind us that there is such thing as sadness, but by watering us and our plants and whatnot, that life goes on.
Rain may be the tears of those who have left.
Rain may be something more complex than ever, but that doesn't stop it from comforting me for no real reason at all.
To my delight and pleasure, I soon realized it was gently raining.
Now I have always loved rain, because it is such a comfort to me when sleeping.
And as I stood looking out of a window, my black cat, fur wet from the rain outside, winds in and out and around and through and around my legs,
I think about rain.
Because really; What is rain?
Perhaps the trees give up their moisture to the clouds so that the clouds may cry for the trees, because the trees cannot cry for their lost brothers and sisters, but the clouds can for them.
Maybe rain is the tears of all those who have cried reused, raining down every now and then to remind us that there is such thing as sadness, but by watering us and our plants and whatnot, that life goes on.
Rain may be the tears of those who have left.
Rain may be something more complex than ever, but that doesn't stop it from comforting me for no real reason at all.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Why do we write?
Why do we write thoughts, ideas, secrets and such down?
If we do that, it is just as easy for others to read them as well as us.
And by writing something down, it may be seen as you yourself not trusting yourself to remember it. Or perhaps, we write things down so others may read them silently and you may spare yourself the embarrassment of saying it, or maybe forgetting some parts.
This of course leads to memorization, which some do with ease while others struggle and prefer to use other methods of sharing.
But the question remains; Why do we write things down?
Inspiration
I find Inspiration in some very interesting places to find it.
Like once, I was just tidying up my mind, when POOF!
I found this excellent name for a main character of a story! And what a perfect name it was.
And another time, I was just trying to go to sleep, when OOH!
I thought of a poem.
And then again, I was peering into this gucky spiderweb of gross thoughts, (bluck) when I saw a glimmer of gold and after I had cleared the spiderweb away, I found this beautiful idea for a story.
So you see, you don't really always have to search far for inspiration.
Like once, I was just tidying up my mind, when POOF!
I found this excellent name for a main character of a story! And what a perfect name it was.
And another time, I was just trying to go to sleep, when OOH!
I thought of a poem.
And then again, I was peering into this gucky spiderweb of gross thoughts, (bluck) when I saw a glimmer of gold and after I had cleared the spiderweb away, I found this beautiful idea for a story.
So you see, you don't really always have to search far for inspiration.
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