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Another memory in the hospital is when i feel in love with this boy and he had bought a valentine for me and even woke up really early to give it too me. one of the nurses rushed in and took me downstairs to the gift shop to get a valentine for him also so it wouldn't be one sided. I paid for it of course so it's okay. we went back up and walked into the teen room where he was waiting. he looked at me and smile and i smiled back then we slid each other our valentines. I can't remember fully after that but we did talk alot. i'd always go to his room cause he was sicker. Unfortunately he passed away and i was crushed. but i still have his card that he gave me. sometimes i look at the card and go over all the memories i just wish he didn't have to go. 

She has gypsy blood hidden in her veins.
His father was a quiet man.
She has a long-lost sibling.
He lost a sibling long ago.
She drowned library books in a murky pond.
He wanted to be a priest.
She wanted to be a nun.
He spoke Chinese.
She taught herself Spanish but daydreamed in French.
He kept his faith.
She lost hers.
He built a car.
She wanted six boys.
He wanted five girls.
She scuba dived.
He was once invited to join.
They scuba dived.
She knew what she wanted in her youth.
He has yet to decide.
She bleached her hair blond and smoked her mother's cigarettes.
He is tall.
She is short.
They met while doing heroic things.
She the ears.
He the hands.
They were romantic.
They were spontaneous.
They married on a holiday.
They danced to Ella Fitzgerald.  
They planned.
They bought an abandoned house.
They reproduced.
They made a home.
Every now and again they share a tale of times long since past.
Their children doubt.
Perhaps because of selfishness.
Perhaps because these same voices read them fictional tales.
They age.
They tire.
They grow jaded.
Yet they ensure that for however fleeting a time their children never age.
Never tire.
Never grow jaded.
They go to the movies.
They giggle as they clean.
They disgust the young with public displays of affection.
They have spoiled.

Another memory in the hospital is when i feel in love with this boy and he had bought a valentine for me and even woke up really early to give it too me. one of the nurses rushed in and took me downstairs to the gift shop to get a valentine for him also so it wouldn't be one sided. I paid for it of course so it's okay. we went back up and walked into the teen room where he was waiting. he looked at me and smile and i smiled back then we slid each other our valentines. I can't remember fully after that but we did talk alot. i'd always go to his room cause he was sicker. Unfortunately he passed away and i was crushed. point is , if you really love someone please please cherish them you might not have them tomorrow 

She fell in love; he didn't. 

*I was gonna write a once sentence story anyway. I get online, and everybody's stories are 6 words long. My laziness has perfect timing. 

This week was difficult so all I did was sleep and I'm going to sleep some more.

No "T"ea doc. You find some?

Im hungry, chews loud...chase comments...:D

Here is a paper I wrote in Sophomore year.

​"Say yes."
"Yesh," I said.
"Say Sexy."
"Shexy."
"Say best."
"Besht," I replied.
A crowd of people were huddled around me spitting out words for me to say and laughing at my lisp. It was just the other daythat i had gotten my tongue guard, which gave me a pretty noticeable lisp when I spoke. It was hilarious even I thought so.
"Say Sassafras."
"Shashshafrash."
Laughter came bursting out. My lisp was the new fascination. I was excited for the rest of the day to come. I would be the center of attention because of my goofy speech. I was relieved. I thought the tongue guard would damage me but to my surprise it captivated me. As the day went by people would laugh at my lisp, along with myself.
"Say so."
"Sho."
"Say soda."
"Shoda," I replied
Another episode of laughter came bursting out. After the first and second week the humor worn off. Others adjusted to my lisp, as did my tongue adjust to the tongue guard on the roof of my mouth.

.....To be continued

My mom thinks Despicable Me is an action movie. I'm not sure how the conversation even started but we argued about this for the entire ride home.

mom- "How is Despicable Me not an action movie??! It has SOOO much action in it!"
me- "Despicable Me? The movie with the cute little yellow guys and kids that like unicorns?"
mom- "Yeah and that Vector guy! He's a villain and he wants to take over the world... that's very action-y."
me- "No. Despicable Me is a family comedy cartoon movie. Not an action movie."
mom- "But I'm saying, it has action in it! Like what about the piranha gun?? That's very dangerous."
me- "No mom. The point of the movie is a happy family movie. Something like the Bourne Identity, or Iron Man- that's an action movie. ...Have you ever even seen an action movie?"
mom- "Of course! Despicable Me, um... how to train your dragon, the pacifier..."
me- "Mom. Those are all family comedies."
mom- "No they're not! They are very action-y. I was scared at times."
me- "*sigh* Okay mom... okay."

He was born, and then  died

 

 

The love of my life gone

 

Gone to war, came home never

First zombie appears, shot zombie. Done

Tough roads now but sunshine ahead.

Oh they don't bite! Never return.

Sweet smiles, hidden secretes in it.

"Perfect sunny weather tomorrow!" Clouds outside.

Departed at noon, arrived by dawn.

1.     •   Best friends. Boyfriend Cheated, Friend Gone.

2.     •    Stressed. Took a vacation, never came back.

3.     •     One night. Baby came. Father left.

4.      

Wife: oooooOO!! You are better than my loser husband … don’t stop

Husband: wake up!!!! Are you being unfaithful?!!

Wife: don’t judge me! I can’t control my dreams …

1. Her eyes wandering, his love misplaced.

2. His father's sweater but his mistakes.

3. Painted ceiling blue, hid from sky.

4. "Please excuse my dust"*. Cremation messy.

5. Painted ceiling blue, forgot the sky.

6. Painted ceiling blue, cursed the sky.


*Originally said by the seminal Ms. Dorothy Parker. (She is just darling...)

            She always wondered where her life may lead as a young girl never knowing  what she wanted was right in front of her. As time went on she became intent on never fully knowing what her future had to offer and she accepted that. She accepted that she was ordinary a little less the average and bleak like her tan bedroom walls, she was fine with that. As others came into them she did not but remained the little girl sitting on the swing alone. All throughout middle school she was always the one sitting alone passing the time with literature because to her that was her friend her escape those grand Arthurs understood.  The Mark Twains and people of that nature comprehended what she went through understood that a simple girl like her felt the world pass her on. When high school presented itself in her life she walked the high school hallways as a ghost to timid to share her voice and too shy for anyone to acknowledge her. There she became friends with Maya Angelou and the Emily Dickinson’s of the world. Though the authors may of changed she didn’t just advanced her reading material. Still after so long she pondered of her purpose in the world never fully ok with the not living she now didn’t accept that she waited on the sidelines of life. She hated that she had no friends but authors with exceptional lives with power/money and most of all notoriety.   As she grew more and more unhappy she banished those thoughts not knowing who she was but bitter wasn’t one of them allowing her to see a little about whom the girl was. She laughed that still at the age of teenager she still saw herself as a girl not yet a teenager but a little girl. She accepted everything day after day she walked around and day after day she sat alone in the class while peers joked around and teachers called on students oblivious to the fact of her existence. She accepted it and she learned that her day will come and when it dose she would no longer sit one the sideline but, it will be her turn to live. No longer would she ponder the unknown but be ready to grab her life by the horns and live. One week her life would be forevermore changed and never the same this week would be her defining moment. This week was the game where nothing else mattered the few second on the clock where she had to make the shoot win or loose black or white no in-between. That week she became an official women always the late bloomer but she slowly but surely came into her self centimeter by centimeter. She was still the timid little girl who didn't share her voice but she walked a little bolder with her head slightly upright. A day after her new found strength the next defining moment would take place her call her purpose would present herself. First of all to understand this you would have to know she was very observant quiet but very intuitive in her surroundings. In the middle of the day she sat in class while others joked and were to busy with there lives she sat with her book. As she read she smelled something funny a scent of hotness. Not familiar at first with it she left the book open and wondered in the halls to see what it was. A few flights up she saw what that the smell was a fire which grew in size. She rushed to her class & yelled on the way there while no one paying her no mind. She rushed in the room in a frenzy trying to get everyone to safety but no one even noticed in a quick thought she pulled the fire alarm making everyone gather there belonging to the designated exit.  When she saw them moving out she followed them while everyone consumed with there own lives she heard a yell for help making her turn around to help once again. Someone was locked in the elevator thinking it was a false alarm with aghast of inner strength this became her defining moment the point where she came into herself. She knew what her future was but to help and save a life in a calm voice she reassured her fellow peer and began pressing the emergency exit and with luck it opened but then closed. Uable to keep it opened herself she ran and got the fire extinguisher and pressed the button once more making it open but instead of closing again jammed the extinguisher in the opening setting the peer free. Now the smoke filled her lungs and her surroundings with that last of hope fail to the ground and knew she accepted no none knew her or acknowledged her because she saved a life and her purpose was fulfilled.  As she closed her eyes she fail into a deep sleep that she would never leave. In the upcoming days there was talk about the student who saved there lives and wondered why they haven’t known her.  

Im currently in my SAT class; with Don Marcos. The students are now doing an art project based on famous artists from spanish speaking countries. They are making an art gallery and mounting their art and their artists' art on different colored art paper. Don Marcos has a calculator out, doing something on his computer while he gives me a few minutes to finish this English post. Today is the last school dance (for seniors at least) and I will not be attending. I have never been to a dance here at school. It's really never been my thing. Partying is not my thing actually.I love being to myself. I have to go pick up my phone after school. I thought I lost it; i mean I did but I'm getting it back. Apparently I left it on the trolly on my way to school. The woman who found it called my friend ( i guess he was the last person I called or texted) and made him pay her $50 to return it. SMH! whatever happened to a good deed? O well, I'm grateful.

Another life made better from being part of SLA Cappella.