Saturday, February 19, 2011

We are a little Crazy...but we don't care

The beginning of my second semester of freshman year has been tiring, fast. I just hadn't realized that mid-February is already here, and I have SO much to do. Golf practice I seriously need, papers that need written, newspaper stories to start, and oh, mid-terms are coming up.

Can I hit pause? Just for an hour or two?

Yeah, reality has smacked me in the face. Hard. And, a little wet.

So, I have taken up poetry lately. Just whatever hits me with a hard passion. It's my outlet...well for now. I can't work on my novel in the middle of madness. Most of it is dark poetry which kind of scares me on one hand, but then again, it comes easy that way. Oh, Mr. Poe...

One of my poems (that I haven't posted yet) really freaked me out. It depicted a girl having a tragic Valentine's Day. The narrator watches her crying as she throws her Valentine card into a river. I leave the ending open because at first I didn't know how to end it. So, I put it down and continued working on an outline for class. About ten minutes later (maybe more I don't remember), I get a text from my fourth roommate telling me her boyfriend broke up with her. I open my door at the same time my other two friends are coming down the hall. I think you can guess where this goes. I showed them the poem later, and they think I'm a fortune teller or something.

The four of us just cannot go anywhere without each other. We are all on the same floor and only a few doors down. They are the best people ever, and I don't know why it took this long for us to find each other. We are quirky. We are strange, but we don't really care. We are just ourselves.

I've been told before that the friends you make in college will last a lifetime. (I think this applies to my friends from Manchester, too.) And, we definitely will stick together in college. The future still remains a mystery. I can tell you though it will be crazy.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Washed Away

You're a drifter. Drifting along in the sea of your unconsciousness. You only see the surface, to afraid to delve into deeper waters. The truth lies as a unknown creature. Perhaps friendly, perhaps death.

So, you just float. No inner tube. No noodles. Just lay floating. Face up to the world. Bare back to the chilling touch of the waters.

Be careful of depth perception. Don't let the unknown drag you under. Don't let your unconscious consume you. It is a tricky thing. The temptations. The wonderment.

But, it's all for a trap. A trap you can't escape. Lost and confused. What is real? What is...a dream? Left screaming for the surface. Only glimpses come. The watery reflection. Distorted.

You can't quite break through. The creatures tease and taunt you. Mock you. All you can do is take it. You're trapped. Crying in the cage they lock you in.

Gone. Gone forever and a day. No one can reach you. The strong seem to approach you, but even they can't release you. They can't hear your cries. Your screams. A film that mutes your voice. Deafens your ears. Clouds your eyes. Only the cruel laughter.

It drags you down. Further and further. No longer can you see the faint rays. Pitch black. Cold. Glowing eyes surround you. The cage is closing in. Smaller and smaller. Hunger all around.

Growls escape their lips. Impatience. Die they say. Let us consume you. Let us destroy you. How can you refuse? You can go no where. Safety is long gone. Far away. You want to resist. But, you know it is to no avail.

They crouch closer, feeling you give in. The cage bends, creaks, stabs into your skin. Oozing blood pours out. They go after your head. One last agonizing cry slips through, and they pour in.

An ice cold splash of water smacks you in the face. A wave. The ocean. The sun beats down on you as you float on your back. The sea beneath you. A dream. Perhaps. But, the tingling sensation tickles your back. And, you swear you heard laughter.

Not today. It's not time today. They tempt you more, but they know it's not today. Because your a drifter. Afraid of the deeper waters. Always have your back to the sea. For now you say. Your day will come. Tomorrow maybe. The day after, sure. But, not today. Not today.