A boy is wild. Who knows what he thinks? He sleeps in his underground mind, his thoughts draped over his heart. Sometimes he lives in his thoughts for two days without speaking. Outside, he stalks girls. Pretty girls, easy girls, and ugly girls, killing more hearts than he can keep warm, and often dragging them away from his thoughts. Obedient to instinct, he bites at the eyes, either splitting each passing second or crunching moments into forever last memories. He does not look away. One girl refused to look at him. He had his eyes fixed on her deeply. The girl could in no way look back and she had to go to a lot of trouble to make him look away. 

Our look was as if two lovers, or deadly enemies, met unexpectedly on an overgrown path when each had been thinking of something else: a clearing blow to the gut. It was also a bright blow to the brain, or a sudden beating of brains with all the charge and intimate grate of rubbed balloons. It emptied our lungs. It filled the room, moved the space, and drained everything else; the world dismantled and tumbled into that black hole of eyes. But the boy disappeared. That was only last week, and already I don’t remember what shattered the enchantment. I think I blinked, I think I retrieved my brain from his, and tried to memorize what I was seeing, and he felt the yank of separation, the careening splash-down into real life and the urgent current of instinct. He vanished under the wild heat. I waited motionless, my mind suddenly full of data and my spirit with pleadings, but he didn’t return. 

Please do not tell me about “approach-avodance conflicts”. I tell you I’ve been in his brain for sixty seconds or more, and he was in mine. Brains are private places, muttering through unique and secret tapes- but the boy and I both pugged into another tape simultaneously, for a sweet and shocking time. Can I help it if it was a blank?  But what goes on in his brain the rest of the time? What does he think about? He won’t say. His journal is uncollected, loose leaf, and blown.

I missed my chance. I should have gone for it. I should have thrown my thoughts to his ears.  We could live under the wild heat, mute and uncomprehending. I could very calmly go wild. If I could live two days down in his thoughts, lost. Down is a good place to go, where the mind is single. Down is out, out of your ever-loving mind and back to your careless senses. I remember muteness as a prolonged and giddy fast, where every moment is a feast of heat received. Time and events are merely poured, unremarked, and ingested directly, like eye contacts pulsed into my head through heat. Could two live that way?  Could two live under the wild heat, and explore by their thoughts, so that the smooth mind of each is as everywhere present to the other, and as received as unchallenged, as falling snow? 

We could, you know, We can live any way we want. People take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience-even of silence— by choice. The thing is to stalk your calling in a certain skilled and supple way, to locate the most tender and live spot and plug into that pulse. This is yielding not fighting. A boy doesn’t “love” anything; a boy lives as he’s meant to, yielding at every moment to the perfect freedom of single necessity. 

These paragraphs are my own mimics. They are originally from Anne Dillards piece “Living Like Weasels” 

Written @ 3:00 p.m. 

I feel as though I have no one to lean back on at the moment. Literally no one. I can’t name some one that has been there/ or is there for me, like I am there for them. If you needed me, ever, anytime, I would do anything and everything in my power in order to be there for you. I would drive to you, call you, do whatever it took to make you feel better or feel reassured about yourself. But oddly, no one seems to return the favor. Is it because you have become so use to me being the strong one? Me being the happy one? Well what if I am having a bad day, but wait, you’re having one too… I will drop all of my needs to help you. That’s just who I am.  You don’t have to ask, I just do it because that’s the type of person I am. I am selfless, completely, totally self-less. And as much as I care about you, you have the shittiest way of showing how you care about me. Like what the fuck do I have to do to get you to put in a little extra fucking effort. Do I have to fucking go and yell “I AM NOT OKAY. I NEED YOU TO BE THERE FOR ME” at the top of my fucking lungs?! I mean you know me well enough to know when I am unhappy, and if you don’t then you don’t know me at all. Where does it break-even. When do I receive the same effort I put out. I’m getting sick and tired of being disappointed by the people I am close too.  

Look, you’re gonna meet a lot of guys, boys, men; whatever you want to call them. You’re not gonna be able to remember the number of how many you’ve met, how many you’ve kissed, etc… What or why or how or when you met them, or fell in love with them, or kissed them is important and will be important to you, but the weird thing is that how they wronged you will seem so much more important. Now, I’m not saying that those negative things are more important than the positive ones, no, no, no, but they are still important, and you seem to remember the first time he did you wrong rather than what made you love him in the first place. It’s the sad truth, bittersweet, fucking truth. But in the long run they help you. You become stronger. Ahh yes thank you Kelly Clarkson! “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”, that is such a true statement. You can still be madly interested in this guy or have good vibes for him but he still dicked you over. Each time he screwed you over should serve as a lesson. A lesson learned. “He led me on and I fell for it”  ”He said he liked me and now he likes her” Yeah trust me when I say, been there and dealed with that. Part of me is still dealing with it because I was caught off guard. These lessons serve to tell you, “Never do that again” or “Do this differently”. They hurt, yes these situations hurt but nevertheless you can’t become negative nancy, pursue to be a positive polly and smile as often as possible. This is a learning process, a healing process. KNOW that you have become better. You ARE better because of these shitty situations. Don’t sit on your ass and cry and blame yourself or blame him or anyone else for that matter. Just move on and smile. Stay optimistic about your situation. In the long run if you TRULY CARE about this guy you would want him to be happy, even if his happiness scarifies the chances of you being with him. That’s how I look at it. It’s so so so hard being a fucking good person, but it is so so so much more worth it. So get up, go smile, and stay happy. Cause it’s a waste of time to be sad! Peace. 

This paragraph can apply to so many different things, not just boys. It can apply to friendships, family relationships, etc… Just fill in the blanks for yourself. Stay smiling. 

It was a beautiful day. The sky was blue and the clouds were white and puffy. The sun rays heated my back as I walked to class. I had a skip in my step due to the music playing in my ears. It was just a positive day, and so far nothing could really make it better, I was already very content. As I entered my class I proceeded to do my daily routine for that period of time and then the bell rang. “Today is a long day with lots of information” my teacher began to say, and a big “Ugh” went through out the entire room. Actual work? How boring, how pointless. Nothing can really make me pay attention to what you have to say! Were a bunch of things running through my mind at that point. But he proceeded to teach and I proceeded to mindlessly stare off into space not paying any attention to the next lesson topic. I began to doodle on my paper when a peculiar thing happened. “So now heat”. Strange, because now I perked up and began to listen. Listen to what my teacher had to say about heat, because I had had my share of experiences with it, and I surely had a lot to say about it. As I subconsciously made comparisons between our two ideas of heat, my eyes began to wander, as they usually do. And they caught his. Funny because he also knew my ideas of heat. A good life time of stares were shared. Actually the stares only lasted about ten seconds a pop. But as I started making heat with my hands as my teacher had suggested I did not just feel the heat from my hands I began to feel it in other places, like my head and then I couldn’t really stop smiling. I don’t know if it was because I knew he was staring at me or because we were actually talking about something I was interested in. Regardless my smile was from ear to ear and reached a high point when I glanced over and saw his acceptance of my smile and his realization of my enthrallment with the lesson. Maybe he has had similar situations with heat just like me. 

Some old writing while cleaning out my room. This is a poem from December. I edited it a bit because it didn’t flow well. It seems unfinished too, but what this poem was based off of is also unfinished. So I think that I should keep this poem unfinished just as the story behind it is. Enjoy

Writing down your feelings isn’t easy-

You think you know exactly what to write

Of course something like, “What happened last night..”

The words are bunched into small thoughts that get erased

The holidays are near and his apology I hope to hear

Being complicated isn’t fun

Already I see I would like to stay young

Growing pains do get to me

But then I see

We are maturing easily 

It really hit me today. It blasted through me inside and out. It was sensational. It was a burning feeling that flowed from my head, down to my throat, and through my stomach. It started as a warm/ light feeling that transferred to a full-blown hot flash. It was very fantastic and quit spiritual. I did not even have to look up to know that he was burning through me with his eyes. I got one of those subconscious feelings that told me if I looked up our eyes would lock and remain locked. I chose to stay looking down because I liked how it felt. The heat made my heart race and made the air around me thick. It was as if I had gone on a four mile run – yeah that heart racing heavy breathing feeling. Even the endorphins kicked in. The endorphins made it even better.  You know what else made it better? The fact that one look from him could make me smile so big and make me feel so blissful. That feeling has been absent for some time. Not just because I haven’t been running but because the timing of certain situations have not given that to me. The fire in this guy is so over looked because people today are too judgmental too fast. They don’t use both eyes. They only use the one that society has given them. They are all so blinded. But I don’t know where these flashes of heat get me, (besides making me more interested), this could be a one sided story for all I know. Sometimes that idea doesn’t bother me because if those eye contacts create such a heat flash of happiness through him like they do for me, then yeah, that can be enough. But I’ll never stop wanting more. This feeling is like a wild fire plowing through a forest. Some of those fires can be controlled and other times they just wipe through acres of land. A beautiful disaster, by nature’s own. What makes these fires or eye contacts so great, powerful, and constant: is for the simple fact that I don’t have that with anyone else. Not to the powerfulness of this fire. Nothing burns quite as heavily. And yet he remains so cool. As if these fires have no affect on him. So I allow my mind to create reasons as to why or how they do not affect him. Or maybe how they do, but he has just gotten very cleaver at hiding them.  But questions still remain, such as: Does he see me frazzled? Or do I stay as calm in his eyes? Does he notice? Or is this a routine fire that he sets whenever he wants with who-ever he wants. The fire, for me, is still burning. It’s going to take a lot to put it out. But I’m not looking for a fire extinguisher any time soon. 

-Written on 2/16/12

something beautiful today. It sparked a new beginning of many more paragraphs, and I am so excited :) 

constantly contemplating my situations. I don’t know where I am right now. I thought I did, I swear I thought I was sure of it. But it is constantly changing and rearranging to the point of where I can’t even recognize it sometimes. It just keeps confusing me. It is the situation we are in. It is it even an it? It is I suppose. Because a river can be an it, and so can a mountain. Those are things that come to mind when I think of us. A flowing river in a mountain. Or flowing flowers in a field somewhere in Ohio, or Northern California. Constantly flowing and growing. And they go through weird climate changes and crazy environmental stages. And sometimes they stop growing, and flowing. But eventually they pick up where they left off. That’s how I hope we will be. Back to where we left off. But that was weeks ago, and currently you are no where to be found. I try and I try and I try. But it is time for you to try. Like I say every time. You make the move. You make it happen. You try. Cause the timing is right and the timing is now. So do it. Just do it. Just tell me. Just see me. Just be with me. Be with me through the hopeless worries of tomorrow, and the never ending smiles of today. Just talk, cause when you talk I get tangled in you. Just smile, cause when you smile you light up, and I don’t get to see that often. It is a fine gift, fantastic. Fantastically fine but never mine. This is beginning to sound hopeless. But I’ll never hope less. I’ll just hope more. And hope for more of you. 

legs hurt and so does my mind and heart and all of the rest of my emotions. It is kinda making my stomach hurt. It’s so crazy to think that I am DONE with high school soccer. I’ve spent 3 hard, long, crazy years in the program and it has all come to a close. At last. Part relieve, part heart break. Part love, part hate. Part happiness part sadness. It is like letting go of a friendship you never thought would end! Or seeing that best friend leave. You know the time is coming but when it actually happens you don’t believe it. Bittersweet at best. It’s been a long time running and all I can say is that I have no regrets whatsoever. Regardless of the pain (emotionally & physically) and hard times, so many more positive things came from these 3 years. I’ve made so many long lasting friendships and I have learned such valuable life lessons. I’m not done with soccer as a whole, just done with High school soccer. The program at my school is, well, not compatible with my personality to say the least. It is corrupt, like most things. But more time is on my side which makes me smile, giving me more happiness and bliss. I’ll never forget all the memories I shared in that stadium, with those people, all those hours, and long days of training. I’ll never forget ever! I loved it as much as I resented it. Crazzzyyyy like most things. When one door closes, another opens. So I’m just waiting to see what will open next :) 

about you last night and it was amazing. Simple, pure. Realistic. It was not even a “thought out dream” it just occurred. It flowed so beautifully too. But it was quick, short, and before I knew it I was up and running once again. Honestly the dream triggered so many thoughts into my damn head. Like how much I miss you and us and talking and all that good shit. I mean for real it seems like things have been put on pause, and I hate it. Because, the fact of the matter is that I don’t connect with anyone as much as I connect with you. I mean we don’t even have to verbally communicate and the connection is still strong. You never fail to keep me on my feet which is hard to do. I can’t even put into words the bubbly little feelings I get when I see you, and they never fail. And when I talk to you it’s like I am being shipped off to another place where it is only me and you, no one else matters. It is so exhilarating. I wish we talked more though. It is never enough. Every end of our conversation is the beginning to a new thought in my head which keeps me thinking and thinking and thinking. You have no idea how much I think about you all day, every day. Regardless if I see you or talk to you. You are always there to me. Which makes things surreal. I mean I can’t even say these things to you because I never get the chance. The only hope I have is that you read this, you smile, and you get brave enough to initiate your next action. I know how brave you are, so show it. 

Don’t be what they want

Don’t be what you’re not

Don’t be afraid, don’t be delayed

Don’t be sad, you should be glad

You should be great, you should appreciate

But after reading this don’t you see?

None of this is for you, it’s all for me

Be what you want

Go ahead, be what you’re not

Figure it out on your own

There’s plenty of time cause you’re never fully grown

It is utterly amazing how strong a connection can be

It is utterly troubling how perfect you are for me

But I am wondering and you’re miles away

But I will wait for that one day

You are beautiful in my eyes

I just hope what you’re telling me is not a lie

I just can’t stop thinking of you

Your name is in my head

I know you’ll come to me when I’m in bed

My dreams will be filled with your face

I’m just wondering when these dreams will take place

You know when you are laying in bed hopelessly trying to fall into a deep sleep? But that fails epically. So then you start to review your day, your week, your month. And you recall a spectacular day of nothing with a spectacular person. Which makes you wonder, will there be more of those days? So then you start to fantasize about a random day. Who you would be with on that day, what you would do and what it would be like. Everything would go according to plan. Every motion, every laugh, every action, everything the way you wanted it to be. I find these fantasy days mostly with you. Considering that I would go anywhere with you makes that easier on me to think about. On these mystically mysterious days we could hike the mountains, climb waterfalls, take pictures at the beach on a cloudy day, or just sit and talk. We could, do nothing but everything at the same time. That’s what is sort of fascinating about you. Everything and nothing, hot and cold, happy and sad, beautiful and ugly all wrapped together into a mysterious soul I have not figured out yet. Frustrating. But back to these fantastic “days”; Mainly in all of them I would just do simple things with you like count the circles in your hand, or just lay on you and hear your heart thump. Or we could listen to music and bop our heads. Maybe even take that fancy camera you never use and take a gazillion pictures. Each “day” I fantasize about, I dig deeper into you, discovering and uncovering MORE. I want to do all of this with you. New experiences are that much more exciting when they are with someone, someone like you. But what’s even crazier is that I can actually see these “days” turning into a reality. Like my virtual world can be real. It’s crazy how the mind works like that; but also fantastic. I mean that alone makes me want to peruse these days. I want these days to happen. Who doesn’t want a fantasy to come to life? I mean they are fantasies because we create them in our head and DREAM of making them a reality. Being able to know that I CAN make these days happen is fantastic.  Perfect. But NO, perfect does NOT EXIST. I would never want those days to be societies idea of “perfect” because that is not the way they should be. No. No. NO. They would be as crazy as us, as WEIRD as us.  I like that perfection is not important. These fantasies could turn into reality all because I could care less if they are perfect. I just want them to occur. And I know they can. That is fucking magical on so many different levels.