Don't Forget Me When You Go

With the late evening sunlight streaming through the trees and the stale smell of the old pole barn, a curious vibe went through the atmosphere. She approached the piano; it was an antique. There were cobwebs on the cover. She ran her finger along the thick layer of dust that had accumulated over the years. Who knows how long it had been sitting here, abandoned. She didn't care- she lifted the cover and began to play. Beautifully out-of-tune music filled the stale barn to the brim and leaked out the sides. It was like a scene from a movie, her playing her heart out in that old abandoned pole barn.

There's No Place Like Home

As I sit here on my bed making eye contact with nothing but the bare walls, I have mixed feelings inside.

Today began my vigorous room-cleaning and packing up various things to move. Also, I can't believe how empty it looks in here just because I took loads of pictures and memories off the wall. We're only moving like, 30 minutes away but still. This is a big change. Don't get me wrong- I'm excited to move into a new house in a new town with new people after living here for all of my life. It's gonna be an adventure, to say the least. But I will miss it here. I've grown up here, and this will always be my home. This will always feel like my home. I guess the next place will just be a house until I've lived there for awhile. My old life will soon be packed up in boxes, anxiously waiting to be carried away by strange people who get paid to drop us off at a new life. My rose-pink walls will forever hold these memories. They will always stay alive here.

"There's no place like home" takes on a whole new meaning for me. You know, you've been there: you had a stressful, long day at school or work and you come home. You flop on the couch and chill out. It's your safe haven, of a sort. For awhile, I'll just come back to my house. Eventually this new house will be my home, but until then, it's open season for change.

Thank you for reading another one of my rants.

Wonderstruck

There's a window in your room and when you open it, the frigid winter air surges in and goosebumps form on your arms. Nonetheless, you put your head out the window and peer into the inky black of the woods, the moon eerily reflecting off of the freshly fallen snow. You can barely make out the frosted tips of the trees, everything dusted in five inches of fluffy heaven. Memories of summer resurface. The flawless, carefree days spent with your best friend. Sleeping in past noon. It was all so perfect and you didn't have to worry about homework, classes, drama, or school events. But you welcome the winter gladly. It's the perfect time to hide under blankets and sweatshirts and sweatpants and to warm up with hot cocoa. You are wonderstruck at the beauty of winter. You look forward to the weekends, waking up to a wonderland in your backyard. The simple feeling of coming inside from a long day at school and shutting the front door to the gray world trying to creep in and haunt you is so satisfying. You feel cozy during winter, because you can settle down, go with the flow, and do your own thing. All of a sudden the chill becomes too cold to bear. You shut the window, and close off your room to the harsh yet beautiful season. Even though you'd rather not, you bring your mind back to reality. Winter is closing in, and it's bittersweet. The only thought that consoles you is that soon enough you'll be settled into the silence of winter. You put Owl City on on your iPod and fight through another night of insomnia.


Just dreaming of winter.

Let's Talk About Being Tired

I'm tired.

I've been staying up late lately. Not late, like 11pm, late like REALLY late. And waking up around 8am simply because I can't stand the taste of my own retainer breath. I can't sleep without my retainers in. But I usually don't sleep much anyway. I have this thing where I stay up until I can't take it anymore and then just pass out, and then wake up early. This continues for about three days. Then the fatigue has been building up for a few days and I go to bed at a reasonable time and wake up around 11am. That's my idea of a good sleep schedule. Right now, I'm at the end of my staying up until the wee hours of the night, and I think I'll go to bed at 11 and get a good 12 hours of sleep. Hehe.

When school starts I have no clue what I am going to do.

When I stay up late, sometimes I just sit and think. My head is often too busy to shut up and go to bed, so I take advantage of it and write and play the piano. For some reason night is always primetime for emotion.

Sometimes I just want to scream at the glowing moon.

Toss

But try not to turn. The "I Love You" still fogs up and I wanna smash the glass.

Dreamland Is An Odd Place

You finally are lulled off into that rare, distant land that the common homosapien calls "sleep". You get the inevitable sensation of falling into a dark and mysterious hole. This time, you don't flinch awake grabbing at the sheets, relieved. You keep falling. And falling.

Finally, the impact you anticipated to be immensely painful turns out to be just a soft bounce. Whatever you landed on vanished. As you take in your new surroundings, you realize that you are about three feet away from shore and the sun is rising. The feeling deep in your bones is not exhaustion, but rather... Exhilaration. You crawl to dry land. A speck of shiny something catches your eye about 5 yards ahead in the sand. The sky is painted seemingly by the hand of God with pinks, roses, burnt oranges, and pale yellows. Fine white sand burries itself deep into your fingernails. There's no way this is real life. Anywho, your own curiousity rather than need for survival presses you to move forward. You stand up and walk ahead, taking in the thick jungle several hundred feet away. A smooth surface underneath your foot- the shiny something- is warm. It must have been there awhile. The sand around it falls away after you touched it with your finger. A door. You think this is way too odd, but you are not afraid. The door easily opens and you peer into its contents. Just some water. This would all seem weird to the normal human being, but it's perfectly normal to you. You sit in the sand and stick your feet in to rinse off.

All of a sudden, you are being pulled into the "room". The water evaporates. You are again falling and tumbling through dimensions of time and space but again, you are not afraid. Cool wind touches your face as you plunge into the darkness and breezes through your hair. You look up, and the light of the nice beach is now the size of a golf ball. You find this amusing for some strange reason, and you laugh out loud. The words "Go in peace," are spoken from an authoritative yet gentle and soothing voice. They echo throughout this so-called tunnel and resound in the walls of your mind.

You wake up feeling refreshed, with "Go in peace," still bouncing around in your subconcious mind. Wait, mind or memory? That question is answered when you discover sand lodged into your fingernails and sprinkled in your hair.