I still care about so many of the same things,
but I somehow harbor some kind of contempt toward all those things I thought so beautiful…

After all, if these people really believed in a God,
wouldn’t they turn to Him in times of trouble?
And would God even dare to turn my life into this?
My family into this?

This is a level of pride I never thought I’d reach.

But what do I care now?
I’ve got friends, right?

And I never even bothered to get close to her.

R.I.P. Anna,
and not just what was,
but the potential of what could have been…

You will never be forgotten.

and now the roof is gone,
he can no longer stand.

he’s a fallen man,
a fallen man with nothing left.

can he start again?
can he rebuild everything?

is he strong enough?

am i strong enough?
can i watch him?
can i help him?
is it worth losing myself?

i watch as it all falls down,
and i’m suddenly afraid.

what if this is my future?
my life?
is this my so-called crystal ball?

i’m his spitting image…
i’m his own blood…

can history repeat itself?
can lighting strike twice?

can ‘homeless’ hit even closer to home?

Still goin’ strong,
like a freight train burning on a midnight run.
We’re rolling right along,
Still goin’ strong…

Wasn’t that the song…?
I fight back tears as I let the roar of the water fill my ears once again.
So much better than the music that held my family together…
The music that eventually faded…

Alabama still reminds me of my father.
Riding in his truck, to the feed store or Montana,
singing along to the songs that still skirt the edge of my memories like scars.

That’s all changed, now.
He doesn’t talk to his family,
there’s no chance of driving through Idahoan small towns.

All I’ve got left are the home movies in my mind,
the one’s I watch in my sleep,
wishing, yearning for things that once were, and never will be…

Rest in Pieces,

My Family.

All the memories, the fleeting moments he and I had together, always skirt the edge of my mind. They aren’t happy memories, they never were. But I just can’t let go…

I was his before she ever was. I’ve done more than she ever could.

And he isn’t hers anymore.

So why isn’t he mine?

I need to accept the truth, that he carves a path of destruction, one I happened to be walking as he came along. And I was left far behind.
He can tell me to “chill” or “relax,” but I can’t. Not around him.
I was nothing more than a toy, something to screw.

And now I’m a mess. And he doesn’t care.

So, high school girls, please, listen:
Yeah, you’ve heard it before, but take it from someone who knows. Guard your heart.
High school is no place for love. Not when people like him can take you, break you, and leave you. He may think he loves you know, but don’t be fooled.

And don’t give yourself away.

Don’t fall in love yet.
Just live.

I have failed more times than I can count. I’ve failed people, classes, and myself. I’ve pushed myself too far, worked myself too hard, and ended up falling flat on my face. Many times, in fact.
But, if I really think about it, I can see where so many other people have stumbled and gotten back up again. I can see that the word “failure” wasn’t invented just for me. It can seem like school is the most important thing in the world, but I somehow know that there’s a lot more to this life than assignments and grades and work. Yes, our education is important. But what about my goals? Not the world’s definition: money, cars, big house. What if I want something more? What do I really want out of life?
I want to help feed the hungry. I want to volunteer in Africa, help kids in South America, go to college and learn rather than get ahead. I want to join the Peace Corps and do what I love to do. I want to see real culture, travel the world, settle down in an artsy little town somewhere so I can read and write and take pictures and just be myself.

Who says I need to live your way?

As Daddy dearest always said, I’m not obligated to succeed, but I can’t ever quit.
And as long as I’ve done all I can, all I want,

I’ve succeeded.

everything i own, everything i have,
it’s all just one big pile of materialism.
just a pile of stuff left behind after i die.

so, if i can help it,
i’m going to rid myself of everything.

not now, of course.
but, if i think about it, i can live off so little…

after all, doesn’t the bible say that the Lord will provide for us?

after college,
after i know all the things i need to live a full life,
after all the things God has given me the opportunities to fulfill,
i’m going to the peace corps with nothing but bible in one hand, and the other outstretched for anyone who may need to grasp it.

because i’m not going to be a slave to this world anymore.

i refuse.

i’ll keep my myspace for now,
but i’ll probably end up deleting it.

and, right now,
i’m going to fulfill my parents’ wishes for me:
to be educated.
so i’m going to graduate high school.
college too.

but i’m going to live with only the riches of the Lord behind me.
because the greatest treasure is in heaven.

It was a simple act of wonder, a basic attempt a understanding the magnitude of my own existence,
or lack thereof.
I simply asked myself to take a few steps back,
to see exactly how big I really am in proportion to this world.
It was when I started to really imagine how many people are on this earth that it struck me:
Chemistry.

We’re all just living by the same rules.
We’re all atoms, people crowded together in a state of solidity, of unity, to create a solid country.
Or others bouncing off each other, creating the unstable liquidity of a collapsing nation…
Then come the reactions.

Some are perfect for each other,
stabilize and neutralize.
Others react, with radioactive results…

So how can we become stable?
How can we calm ourselves down?
Will we relax, or explode?

Here’s where the correlation ends…
We can decide.

Would those girls be willing to go days without showering,
or make up,
to sleep on concrete,
to fight for what they seem to so strongly support?
Would they give up those shirts,
and everything else they own,
to do something like join the Peace Corps,
or volunteer work in a third world country?

Did you know that, after Mahatma Ghandi was assassinated,
his possessions amounted to a total of three dollars?
He grew up in a middle class, working family.
He could have had much more.
But no.
He gave it all up, all for peace.Ghandi brought peace to India,
taught them to love their attackers…
Could you do that?
Could you turn to the man beating you as he drops his baton,
pick it up,
and say ‘You dropped this, Sir…’?
Could you?

I couldn’t.
In fact, I don’t think I know a single person at Valencia High who would do so.

So take off the t-shirts,
put down your cell phones,
and maybe, together,
We can bring peace.
Not just tell everyone else to in big letters on polyester…