I’ll finish early to find that the world wasn’t ready.
There are places I want to be, but never alone, you see?
I want to do this and that and that again,
But I have to do that and this and this again.
Stability is a mystery at this stage;
It should be outlined on my degree.
“Passionate, but little guarantee.”
“Self-willed, but too soon to gauge.”
Sign me up!
Make me king.
I threw my hat in the air.
With all the laughter about,
No end within sight,
We screamed or we’d shout.
Here’s to the victors of glee and might.
No one stops to evaluate what victory means,
Or how the other must feel.
We squeeze and we glean;
Take all the joy and the pawn while they kneel.
Mark their heads with our seals,
But the laughter can’t last forever.
It’s a tarnished endeavor.
I watch my hat hit the ground.
Long and far.
Our grounds are soiled,
No joys to spawn.
My hat hits dirt.
The sound, all hollow, resonates their hurts.
Topic: Reflect on where you were before this semester, and where you stand now afterwards.
Before the semester started, I was in all sorts of stories. I got to watch them unravel or wind up. It’s weird I’ll tell you that. I’m not the same person I was before the semester, but I don’t think that bothers me too much. It’s not that I wasn’t a fan of that girl before, but I like who I am now too. I liked them both, for different reasons.
One gave me hope in ideals bigger than man while the other helped me walk away from chasing something that can’t be captured.
My body feels different, as does my mind. My mind has made some new tracts in my mind, and every now and then I go down those tracts. Its fun to see where they lead. My mind didn’t do a 360 though. I am who I am. I can look in the mirror and see a familiar face. The thing is that it’s a face that has seen the four seasons and has grown past them.
I’m solid. I’m doing pretty good. I’m not turning into brittle, or however that expression goes. I’m not crumbling under stress or withering with the wind. I’m far from decaying. I feel as though I was that plant someone forgot to water, and now that the rain has finally come, I’m turning all sorts of green. So let me grow. Let me do my thing.
My thing isn’t wrong or strange or absurd. It’s just my way of living. I feel as though I’m going to be reaching all new heights in the near future. And I am excited for them. Both hands clasped together you’ll find me there praying. Praying for all sorts of things. Most importantly though, I’m praying for those ideals I realized were beyond anyone’s reach.
I see the way they dress, and eat, and talk.
I should be as sustainable as them.
It’s not even a ‘them’ anymore.
It’s a ‘we, it’s an ‘us,’ it’s a collective.
It’s a major with a directive;
A field based off of perspective.
I am a part of them,
So maybe I should attached to their hem.
I should seek the same changes,
And display these changes as well.
I’ll become more aware and more conscious.
Truths will be written as I learn to be honest.
I have to be honest to myself and my environment;
Distinguish between necessity and entitlement.
I know of the history.
We are all part of the same mystery.
But I’ll try to save what I can.
This isn’t my calling; it’s my plan.
I pressed myself upon a stone.
I felt it’s grooves, though it was roughly all smooth.
I came to know it quite well.
I liked it’s curves,
As I had liked it’s given weight.
I found myself upon another stone.
I’m still tracing my fingers across it’s cool foundation.
Two stones too many.
There are more than plenty.
I just don’t think I can value them equally.
Something inside says greedily.
I’ll shift my feet towards gravel.
I’ll build my way up to boulders.
Stones are not for me.
When you look down at me and judge,
Remember who I used to be.
Not what I want to be.
Never who I could have been,
Look twice, and on my sin.
When I stand up for the fall,
I’ll remember why I came this far.
I’ll close my eyes,
Pray on a shooting star.
And when I realize I’m only higher than before.
I’ll cry and remember where this soul lies.
Know that I’ll be infinitely more wise.
Forgive me Seeker,
For I have sought.
Forgive me Confessor,
For I have confessed.
Embrace me with compassion and truth.
Pray for me and my youth.
Topic: Open conversation.
“I need you to know, friend,
My mind was in a daze.
I hope that we can make amends;
I’m sorry it went wrongful ways. “
You mean a lot to me, and its progressively mounting. I never thought I’d be the one on the other side of the line, but I am. I want to paint over the line and act like it was never there. I also want to kick some dirt over it, hiding it. That’s not me though. I saw that line, and then I was one step ahead of it. Three steps behind.
My head was a jumble of everything. I was here, but somehow there. I closed my eyes and I swear I could see you. It’s funny how our minds work. I wish mine was ahead of the game. It gradually turned into the game. I couldn’t escape the game, and I couldn’t win it. There are no winners or losers here this time my friend. There is only the daze that follows. Questions are posed, and I can’t answer them.
“Put into a daze,
I’ll make my way out.
I know without a doubt,
That there are prices to pay,
But I’ll pay in cash.
I’ll land in debt.
I’ll feel the brunt of that lash,
But I won’t let you go and fret.”