The Kid On The Plane

So on the way back from my dad's for spring break, I saw this kid on the plane and... well just read on(:


We sit on the plane in the very back next to a kid probably 12 or 13 years old. I think nothing of him as my sister and I shuffle into the small airplane seats. About halfway through the flight, the boy, who has been staring out of the window this whole time, rushes a black binder out of his backpack with a picture of a grinning him and two, -I'm guessing- friends, slid into the clear front pocket and whips it open to a blank page of notebook paper. All of the sudden an overwhelming sense of curiosity grips me about what this unknown boy will do on the empty page. Draw the crop circles far below? Write some kind of poetic story about being high in the clouds? The longing to see his work, and the anticipation of what it will be, is intensely overpowering, and incredibly unexplainable. I take myself by surprise, but I can't help it. I didn't peg him as a poet- or for that matter a sketch artist either, with his skater shoes with no laces, cargo shorts, and baggy sweatshirt. But I almost want him to be one of these things, if just to prove me wrong. I can almost feel my eyes sparkling with excitement, and if you looked at me right now, I'm sure they would be. The suddenly mysterious kid stares intently out of the window with pencil in hand as I sneak a glance over his binder. I notice some papers labeled "Vocabulary" and after seeing that it says 7th grade, feel almost boastful at my good guess at age. I look away for just a second- why, I can't recall now- and when I look back the boy is just finishing writing no more than a sentence. His hand blocks the writing and I just catch a glimpse of his neat scrawl, without making out any words, before he closes the binder and shoves it back in his bag, leaving me dissapointed that the chance has left.

How To Be a Post-It Note

Be made of paper.
Be packed in with all the others.
Don't be scared to be bent. Or shoved in a pile of junk or a thick book.
Be prepared to adhere to anything. From shelves to refrigerator doors to chairs to pages.
Be a tattoo maniac. Get all inked up.
Be fearless; carrying on the legacy of the ones before you.
Be comforted in the fact you served your purpose, if (and when) you are sent to the shredder.
But most importantly,
Just keep sticking

NEW DESIGN!!

so I basically completely redid my blog design and since I want to put some of my own photography and edited pictures on here (eventually!) I just decided to tell the world about my background image. I actually took this picture of a dessert rose plant/flower thing and if I may say so myself it was pretty cool. But then I edited the photo on picnik.com (I have no photoshop- yet) and so have the end product- the new background of this blog. And I quite like this effect that i used on here. It was called posterizing. so... yeah. cool i guess. (:

You Bandage Your Cuts With Tie-Dye Duct Tape

This poem kind of came by accident; I saw some tie-dyed duct tape and thought up the line "You bandage your cuts with tie-dye duct tape" and this poem was born. ALTHOUGH I do still very sincerely mean what I say in it because I have been a witness to these sort of goings-on. (: hope ya like it:

You bandage your cuts with tie-dye duct tape
To disguise the gory wounds
beneath the colorful sticky adhesive.

You patch together crumbling pieces
and seal on sticky strips
To fool others of the reality
of your falling apart.

You bandage your cuts with tie-dye duct tape
because you've fooled yourself
that I don't wonder what's underneath.

On Turning Ten

I discovered this poem through my writing class (as I usually discover poetry, etc.) and I love it. I think maybe because I was sort of the opposite; I couldn't wait to grow up. And sort of still can't (I cannot wait to finally be able to DRIVE!!:) but I am definetly realizing the responsibilities that come with getting older and occasionally miss the good 'ol days when i could throw my hair in a ponytail and play all day with the boys, but of course now that would probably be considered flirting- but I'll save that whole other entry for another time. 

SO here it is- it's called "On Turning Ten" by Billy Collins:

The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light-
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my  knees. I bleed.

Florence + The Machine- Dog Days Are Over

Florence Welch... I mean this girl can SING! Florence and the Machine is yet another rad band that can really play. This vid is a lil strange, but what music video isn't? This song is one of my faves (:

Mumford and Sons- Awake My Soul

"How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes, I struggle to find any truth in your lies" ... "Awake my soul, cuz you were made to meet your maker"  -  Such a beautiful song... This band is awesome, they sound just as good live as they do recorded, which is just amazing(: They rock. Legit.