Thursday, December 20, 2012

Dramatically Boring “End of the World” Post

When I first heard the theory that the world would end at the end of 2012, I was in the sixth grade. My history teacher was the one who told us, an entire class of very gullible twelve year olds, who probably all went home crying. I worried about it for weeks. I even remember making all sorts of plans on how to avoid death in 2012. One such plan involved a sort of escape pod. I was twelve. Cut me some slack. My dad told me to stop worrying. He told me, “If it ends, it ends. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.” He was right, so I didn’t worry anymore.
I know that end of the world scares are bogus, and sometimes humorous, but I’m sure that we’ve all thought, “What if it actually ends?” For my sixth grade mind, I imagined that I would be sitting with everyone in my family in the living room. That seemed a good way to go. Actually, what I’ve done in the past twelve hours has been quitting my horrible job, going to my best friend’s b-day party, and now I’m sitting on my bed and writing a post with six hours and twenty-two minutes on the clock until zombies. Or aliens. Or solar flare. Or something more insane.
What will I do with the remaining six hours?
I’m taking a shower.
Reading a book or two.
And then I’m going to sleep. (I’ll still be cheesy and set my alarm for four thirty just so that I can see for myself that I’m not dead. Heh. Heh.
The thought of dying doesn’t scare me. I view it with Peter Pan’s philosophy. “To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
I don’t believe that the world will end, but if it did and someone spent one of their last hours reading this, I’d feel pretty important.

Thank you, dearest readers, for listening to my craziness. You greatly inspire me.
Peace, love, and joy,

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Free Write

I've never posted a free writing segment, so I guess I'll start now. For anyone who doesn't know what free writing is, it is the act of continuously writing about, well, anything. You don't have to have a topic, you just have to write. It's basically a stream of consciousness that gets written down.
Here goes nothing :)

Sometimes I think too much. Way too much actually. My thoughts get too deep and then I end up sort of in a daze. I wonder if Koas is dreaming right now. Gah, I don't want to go to work tomorrow. Counting pills and waiting on sick people is very dull. I wish I could go skydiving, or something else really dangerous and exciting. I want to go on a real adventure. Sometimes I wish that I could go on adventures like I've read of in books. Scratch that, I ALWAYS want to go on amazing adventures like the ones I've read about in books. It's just the thought of it that excites me. Danger and beautiful stars. I want to see real stars. There is way too much light pollution here to see the majority. I want to see other planets with life. I want to go to new worlds. Worlds just starting out. Worlds where no creature has polluted and tortured the planet that allows its existence. I want to fly, and sometimes I don't want to wake up. In dreams, everything is possible. In reality, I am burdened. One day, I want a garden. I want a cottage in the woods. I think I've had that dream ever since I saw Matilda when I was younger. I wanted to be like that teacher whose name I can't remember. The  pretty blond one, not the crazy one. When I go to college, I hope I don't have a psychopath room mate. That would suck.

Peace, love, and understanding one's inner crazy,

Monday, December 10, 2012

A Post for Koas

I don’t have any pictures of us together goofing off, or just being nutters (heh), but you happen to be one of my greatest friends. As part one of your Christmas present, I’d like to write you a post in letter form that expresses my gratefulness for your existence.
(Please enjoy this picture of Koas which I edited as a comic book panel.)
(Also, I stole it from his Facebook profile)
(I’m such a bad person)

Dear Koas/British Buddy/awesome guy,
                                                       I knew you were cool as soon as you killed me on Call of Duty. See, normally I might have been mad, but how can anyone be mad at someone who is not only hilarious, but also has an English accent? That’s right. You can’t. I know how annoying I must’ve been in the beginning when I could hardly understand what you were saying to me. I was naïve enough to think that every English person sounded like the actors on Harry Potter, but that is clearly not the case. For whatever reason, you continued to talk to the crazy American girl who is slightly mad and who can never finish sentences properly when she talks.
There are a few things I have learned from you, and I’m going to list those:
  1. The time difference between here and Oxfordshire. Without even thinking anymore, I know what time it is for you vs. what time it is for me and the likelihood that you are still awake. Also, time differences suck. Majorly.
  2. I now understand many British slang words. However cool they may be, I’d look stupid using them here, so I refrain.
  3. Geography. Now I understand more about where things are located in England, and in Europe period.
  4. Minecraft. You were the first person who told me about it, even before my friends knew of the beautiful game.
  5. How much a postcard costs to mail. I love going to the post office and telling them that I need a letter mailed to England.
  6. The cost of living in London. I have done extensive research on the matter, as I plan on living there one day.
  7. How Americans are perceived in other countries.
  8. How not every place on this planet is as close minded as some of the places I know.
You have an awesome taste in music as well, and you’ve introduced me to countless amazing bands which I listen to on a daily basis. Also, we are going to have to make a cover as soon as I get a mic and a reliable software, so prepare yourself, good sir.
You also give me hope for an amazing future. I know that sounds corny, but it’s true. When I think of all the places I’ll go and all of the amazing people that I’ll meet later in my life, it makes me so happy. Somehow, knowing you has made the world both even larger and even smaller than I had known before. Larger, because you have become the boy who lives in my computer and always has hilarious stories to tell me about life across the pond. Larger, because I can’t hop in my car and drive five minutes down the road to hang out with you. Smaller, because even though I know you’re thousands of miles away, it never feels like that to me. Smaller, because I was lucky enough to find such cool person on Xbox.
Thank you, Koas, for sticking around in my life and for making me laugh on my worst days. I know that I can be really crazy sometimes, but thanks for toughing it out anyway. You’re one of my best friends despite the time difference and the thousands of miles of ocean and land in between our separate parts of the globe.
Peace, love, and learning to type even faster,

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Cliché Thanksgiving Post

It’s the time of year again when Americans travel to be with loved ones, stampede down the aisles of Wal-Mart, and succeed in setting something on fire while in the process of cooking the perfect Thanksgiving meal. For much of my childhood, Thanksgiving was spent at my mom’s mother’s house in Alabama. Now, it is spent right down the street at my dad’s parents. Either way, I am always reminded of the importance of family.

In the holiday spirit (and because I like lists), I’m going to list what I am thankful for this year. I want to look back at how I change and grow through the years, and this is a great way to do that.

I am thankful for…

  1. My mom, for being a strong role model. You know how to make your kids laugh, and you are one of my best friends.
  2. My dad, for being so caring. You understands my love for all animals (even rats and moles), and have always taught me to never give up.
  3. My brother, for understanding my sense of humor and for listening to the stories that I’ve been making up for years. In a way, you were what made me love music. You listened to the songs that I made up off the top of my head as you fell asleep, and that inspired me to continue writing songs.
  4. My friends, for being real with me even if you don’t always understand me.  
  5. Koas and Olle, for listening from thousands of miles away. I know that I can tell either of you anything without worrying about you stabbing me in the back. I’ve known you both for exactly a year now. Here’s to many more years!
  6. My cat Jazmine, for sleeping beside me and keeping my toes warm at night.
  7. My cat Peeta, for making me so happy for two years. You were such an amazing cat, and I know that I will never forget you.
  8. Liberty, for being the most amazing dog in the world. You have been a part of our family for eleven years, and I still remember the day we got you. You’ve always been like Nana from Peter Pan.
  9. Ellie, for being the most spoiled mutt that I’ve ever known. Thank you for making me laugh.
  10. My job. It supports my music and book addiction.
  11. The field. It’s a place to run in the open and be alone.
  12. The river, for being a place of peace and life and promise.
  13. The woods, for being a home to so many kinds of life. A place that is both loud and silent.
  14. My past, for shaping me into the person that I have become.
  15. My mistakes, for teaching me that I can be better than what I was yesterday.
  16. My knowledge, for allowing me to see past so much ignorance and hate.
  17. My heart, for being empathetic.
  18. My imagination, for making everyday interesting.
  19. Memories, for making me smile and cry.
  20. Last of all, I am thankful for my readers. You make me so happy when I see that someone has commented or emailed me from the Say, Sara page. Thank you for being so supportive and amazing.

What are you thankful for? Leave a comment below!

Peace, Love, and Books,


Sunday, November 4, 2012

Bravery and Cowards

Paige and I were given the assignment by our fantastic psychology teacher to wear rainbow ribbons supporting gay rights for a day. The point of the assignment was to see the reactions of people that we came in contact with throughout the day. Of course, neither of us had any issues with putting the ribbons on and wearing them proudly, but I did have a problem with the prejudice that I witnessed first hand.

This activity made me realize how brave we both are.  We were not even slightly ashamed of our ribbons, and we never thought about taking them off or hiding them from sight.  Some people probably thought that the activity was ridiculous or stupid, but we didn’t.  We knew what we stood for.

I am so sick of hearing uneducated, ignorant people making assumptions about gay people just because they’ve seen a few words about homosexuality in the Bible. A book, let me remind you, that was written by men. If it were written by God then there would be a lot more Christians. But it wasn’t.

No one chooses to be gay. Why can’t people understand this? In a few decades, the people who went against gay rights will be looked down on. Do we not look down on those who went against the Civil Rights Movement? I know that I have posted time and time again on this issue, but I won’t stop until there is a significant change in our society. I will not stop fighting for the betterment of this country, because I know better. I know that you cannot choose who you love, just as you cannot choose what type of life you are born into.

Paige and I are brave. We are not like the cowards who cannot stand to think outside of their “comfort zones”. I know that people like us seem rare (teens with proper heads on their shoulders), but I can assure you that we are not. There are so many more like us. There are so many people who want to show people what love really is. Love does not mean to condemn. Call me crazy, I don’t care. I am passionate about what I believe in. I believe in love.

All that I ask is that you, most fantastic reader, can be brave with me.

How can you be brave? By taking part in any of the following:

  1. A Lesson in Prejudice: Wear a gay pride ribbon for a day like Paige and I did. Write about your experience on you blog, or email me through the Say, Sara page. Heck, leave a comment on this post!
  2. Be Loud: Protest! No war was ever won by being quiet and doing nothing. If you can’t make it to any peaceful, public demonstrations, write about it. Having a blog, Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter account means that you have a voice. Make it a strong one! As always, link me in the comments to your post. I love to see people taking a stand for what they believe in.
  3. Illustrate: Post a gay rights blog button on your side bar. People love pictures. Especially when they involve rainbows.
  4. Take The Pledge: Go ahead, click the button. You know you want to.

There you have it. Four incredibly easy options for being brave and taking a step towards a better future.

Peace, love, and warm toes,


Friday, October 26, 2012


I was going to write a post about my cruise to Mexico, or about my awesome friend Koas, but then I knew what I had to write about first.
People never cease to amaze me.
Everyday I am surrounded by so much ignorance and so much hate that I want to scream. It sometimes feels like I'm in one of those great but depressing sci-fi movies where the society is so corrupt and only a small percentage of the population actually understand how corrupted it is.
I realize that I'm exaggerating, but I'm a writer (or at least I try to be). I'm allowed to go crazy with my imagination on a daily basis.

Not everyone in our school is a Christian. In fact, a large number of the students are atheist or agnostic.
I myself don't claim any religion fully. I consider myself to be a very spiritual person, and I am very happy to live this way. My parents and brother are Christians, but we don't go to church anymore. We embrace the philosophy that going to church doesn't make you a Christian anymore than standing in a garage makes you a car.
I have observed throughout the years, especially in middle school, that many "Christians" judged, ridiculed, and bullied other children even though they claimed to be very close to God.

Religion is such a funny thing.
It turns people against each other, even if they are a part of the same religion. It topples governments and crushes cities. Countless people have died or murdered in the name of faith.
Religion can make people crazy. Not all people, of course, but it has the potential.

My mom and I talk about many controversial topics, and yesterday we talked about religion.
I am very lucky to have a mother and a father who have never imposed any beliefs on me.
My mom and I talked about how crazy it is to think that any single religion is totally correct. Christianity, in the scheme of things, is a fairly new religion. Who is to say that the ancient Egyptians weren't right? Or the ancient Greeks?
Because of this, I embrace the Buddhist philosophy that gods are different depending on the time period and various cultural aspects. I think that there is certain wisdom in any of the world's religions, both past and present.

What I cannot comprehend is how some people get so worked up over religious issues.
So someone believes differently than you. Guess what? They are no more right or wrong than you are. 
No one knows what is after this life. Maybe we are born again. Maybe our soul leaves our body and rests eternally in a divine realm. The point is, no one can know for sure, so it is pointless to fight over it.

The other day in class, a boy said something about being agnostic. Another boy snapped at him and said that he was disrespecting his God.
People like the second boy are why I want to live on an island. All by myself, away from the ignorance.
Just because that is your God does not mean that is my God.

What I want more than anything is an accepting society, no matter how impossible that is.

I'll close this post with a quote from one of our presidents and founding fathers, Thomas Jefferson.
Millions of innocent men, women and children, since the introduction of Christianity, have been burnt, tortured, fined and imprisoned; yet we have not advanced one inch towards uniformity.
-Thomas Jefferson, Notes on Virginia, 1782
Peace, love, and scary movies,

Friday, October 12, 2012

I'm On A Boat... Next Monday

Fear not, dear readers, for I have returned! I didn't give up on blogging, I promise.
I've been up to the usual shenanigans that involve: Walking into college psychology dressed as pirates with Paige, writing nonsense for English because I hate that class for the first time in my life, reading loads of great books, writing like a maniac on my latest story (as long as I have caffeine), and doing other things that generally apply to my everyday, geeky life.

I did decide that I needed to write this post, because I'll be dropping even further off the radar next week.
Because I'm going to Mexico!!! :D
My family is going on a cruise to Cozumel and Progresso and I am beyond excited. None of us have ever been out of the country or on a cruise before, so it should be a nice adventure.
I've wanted to travel the world for as long as I can remember and this is a perfect way to start crossing places off my list.
Although, when I'm older I won't like travelling at the pace of a cruise line.

The ship has an internet cafe which I was initially very excited about.
Yay, I thought to myself, I'll be able to tell the people who keep up with my blog about whatever interesting things might occur on the ship or on land!
But, much to my dismay, my mother informed me that computer usage on the ship costs .75 cents a minute.
That's right, a minute.
In other words, this is a goodbye until I return next Saturday.

In other unimportant news...
Tomorrow I'm playing music at a craft fair in Brentwood, so I'm happy (and nervous) about that.
Oh well, Paige is going to be there, so at least there will be a familiar face in the audience. It has been so long since I last played, but I need to start back again.
I think some quiet, strange part of me misses it.

Oh well, you can keep up with me via Twitter until I no longer have cell service. I'm sure you're all interested in my pathetic tweets.

Peace, love, and socks,

Friday, September 21, 2012

Tonight I Wasn't Very Sara

I went back to my psychologist today. It had been about five years since my last visit.
Honestly, I was never "fixed". When I was eleven and I got out of that terrible depression that I was in, I wasn't done being depressed or having anxiety. Instead, I had learned how to cope with it.
Sure, I didn't think I was going insane anymore, but I was still thinking about how many horrible outcomes each day could have.
I didn't want to go back to the psychologist for the longest time. My mom would mention it on the days when I couldn't hold it together that well, but I always said no. I honestly thought that I could work through it on my own, but I can't. I think I tricked myself into thinking that everything was fine, that I was going to work through everything by myself. I was very wrong.
As I was talking to my psychologist today, I think I finally understood how long this has been going on. Basically, I've had terrible anxiety my entire life.

Today I wanted to go to the football game. It was a home game and all of my friends were going to be there.
It was going to be fun.
But on the drive home from the appointment, I started feeling really bad again.
And by feeling bad, I don't mean a headache. I was upset over so many things all at once.
I was sad for my parents worrying about me. I was sad about my friends probably thinking that I'm crazy because they don't understand how much anxiety affects my life, etc.

When I got home I decided to play Minecraft and try to get myself thinking happier thoughts, but that didn't help anything. My mom was going on a walk around the block and so I decided to go with her.
But as I was getting dressed, my friend Paige called me.

On and off for an hour, I had been debating with myself on whether or not I should go to the game.
Then I messaged Paige and told her that I wouldn't be coming.
I was just so upset and I still am upset. I didn't want to be around people at all, even the friends that I am very grateful for. Lately, since this has been progressively been getting worse, I've been making up excuses to get out of social events. It doesn't matter what the setting is. From a football game to going to Sonic with my friends, it doesn't take much to throw me into anxiety mode. And because I was already having a hard time with it, I knew that I would most likely be a blubbering mess in the car and that I would probably leave the game early. Half the time, I make up some excuse about my mom wanting me to come home when I'm out with friends. I say that I didn't do the dishes or that I have some sort of homework to do, but really it's because I get sad and worried even more than usual. I leave because I know that if I stay, I could potentially start crying or get very quiet and then my friends would ask me too many questions.
I really don't like answering questions when I get like that. Partly, it's because I can't put how I'm feeling into words. For the most part, it's because I know that I'll start crying again. I don't like to cry in front of people.

So when Paige called me and asked why I wasn't going to the game, it was all I could do to hold myself together. The reason I wasn't going didn't have to do with wanting to write, or play video games, or reading.
It had to do with the fact that I was just too fragile to go anywhere in public.

After I had myself mostly pulled together, dad watched Doctor Who with me. It meant a lot to me since both  of my parents hate that show. But we watched Blink, and no one is allowed to hate that episode because it's awesome.
I love my parents so much, and I'm very thankful that they try their best to help me not to be so sad and worried all the time.

Hopefully, this can provide my friends with the answers to why I've been absent from social functions lately.

Now that I've started going back to a psychologist, I think that I'll start to get better soon.
At least I hope so.

Peace, love, and socks,

Monday, September 17, 2012

The Post I Should Have Posted A Long Time Ago

This past Mother's Day, I wrote a post for my mom and I thought to myself, "When Father's Day rolls around you'll have an awesome post for dad too!" And then Father's day rolled around, and I didn't have a post for my dad. I was thinking about that the other day and it made me feel bad.
Especially with a few events that have happened recently, I figured that it was time for dad to get his own post. 

*clears throat and pops knuckles*

My dad is the person who taught me to stand up for myself and for my friends no matter what.
He taught me to never give up on my dreams and how to be tough. 
While my mom introduced me to music and writing, my dad introduced me to nature and I feel that it is equally important. 
He taught me how to explore and how to get lost in the trees behind our house that I used to call the "forest". 
The woods have always been a completely different universe for me and I think that if I hadn't grown up with them, I wouldn't have the imagination that I have today. 
They were always more than just woods to me. They were places where faeries lived on moss hills. They were where mermaids and mermen swam in the nearby river. Sometimes they were inhabited by dreadful beasts and hooded, wicked goblins. 
Even today, I find it hard to believe that there isn't some type of magic there in the trees. When the light from the setting sun comes through the trees, the woods become drenched in faerie dust. 
But now I'm talking about the woods, so I'll get back on track. 
My dad was the person who taught me how to swim and ride a bike. He taught me how to solve multiple problems too. Most of them involve life or death situations because my dad is a police officer and police officers worry about these types of things. He taught me how to break out of a trunk (in the event that I was kidnapped), how to leave clues of my DNA (in the event that I was kidnapped), where the pressure points are on the human body (in the event that I was jumped, kidnapped, or just needed to know), how to jump out of a car (kidnapped), that you should always go for the thumb first if someone won't let go of you, and how to jab someone's eyes.... in case I was kidnapped.
He also played Twister with me. Now, I'm not talking about the floor mat game with colors and a good understanding of yoga, I'm talking about pretending that we were in the movie Twister and a tornado was chasing us. Back in those days, I wanted to be a storm chaser. This was after I had moved on from wanting to be a skydiving ballerina. 
This is the same man who taught me how to catch mice in butter-bowls and release them into the wild (our next door neighbor's yard). In our old house, we had a mouse problem in the winter months. Because I am a lover of all animals, no matter the species, my dad found a new way to get rid of them. I couldn't stand to see them dead in the traps. 
But most recently, my dad helped me bury my cat Peeta. Even when I type that now, it doesn't seem real. It seems impossible that my mother could have called me a few weeks ago and told me that Peeta was dead. 
But my dad, he helped me come to terms with the fact that I would never walk around the backyard with Peeta at my heels again. Dad listened to all of my sobbing and all of my sadness and he never once told me that I should toughen up. He knew how much Peeta meant to me. 
On the day that Peeta died, dad brought home flowers for Peeta's grave and sushi to try and cheer me up. 
I don't think I'll ever forget that, either. I love you dad, and I don't know what I would do without you.
Thank you for reminding me again why you'll always be my best boy, and for teaching me that I should never give up on my dreams. 

Peace, love, and old photos, 

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

The Lies of Procrastination

I am a huge procrastinator.
I'm not the absolute worst, but I am pretty bad.

Take right now for instance. I should be studying psychology. I should be answering the questions for English, finishing the study guide for History, or a number of other things. But what am I doing? Writing a blog post that will not make any major contributions to society. In fact, this blog post won't really do anything at all besides outline the typical lies that I and my fellow procrastinators tell ourselves.

Meh, there's plenty of time: Wrong! Most likely, there isn't plenty of time. But I am very good at deceiving myself into thinking that I have all the time in the world before a deadline. Sometimes, when my life gets very difficult to manage, I make lists of everything I need to do in one day. Does it ever get done? Only sometimes.

I'll just do it tomorrow: This one usually isn't a lie for me... depending on what is actually due the next day.
If the assignment is due the next day, I go to great lengths to see that it's finished. As a Professional Procrastinator, I feel that half of my job description says, "Get the job done by any means necessary... when you feel like it".

Pinterest/Blogger couldn't hurt: False. False, false, false! No matter what I tell myself, Pinterest and Blogger are HUGE time suckers for me. Usually, I'll get on Pinterest with this in mind, "I'll only stay on for a few minutes and I won't start pinning anything". An hour and 100 re-pins later, I snap out of the hypnotic powers of the internet, and get back to work. Until, that is, I remember Spotify.

I'll just play my playlist: This almost never happens. Because, when using Spotify, I quickly locate the "related artists" tab and I can't resist clicking on it. I end up surfing through the software, listening to bands I've never heard of, and finding new favorite songs. Consequently, I make a new playlist to hold all of my findings, and the process starts over again.

One episode, and then back to work: Netflix is a very devilish invention. It lures you in with its promises for unlimited TV show episodes, and then it ruins your life. Why? Because you become addicted to these shows. Or at least I do. I know I'm not the only one!  Every single time I decide, "Hey! I've been working hard. I deserve a Doctor Who break!" I not only feel like some sort of geeky addict, but I know that one episode is never an option. Many episodes must be watched. Even if I have seen the episode about ten other times.

What about you? Can you think of any lies that you tell yourself to just keep procrasinating? Or are you someone who has learned the secrets to NOT put things off until the last minute. I'm curious, so drop me a comment or email me on the Say, Sara page.

Peace, love, and felines,

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Jerks, Toilets, and Other Things That My Phone Is Attracted To

Have you ever had the privilege of meeting someone who will seemingly pop right out of existence, and then BOOM! They decide to be back in your life again?
Unfortunately, I have known quite a few.
But while reading past posts, you have been unknowingly reading about the boy that I'm going to talk about today. Read something about him here.
It's a very long and boring story that I won't go into right now, but basically, this guy dug himself into a hole.
His pattern goes something like this:

Hey! I'm going to text you all the time.
*A month goes by*
Yeah, I'm just going to totally stop having conversations with you period.
*Three months go by*
Hey! I'm going to text you all the time. 

You see how stupid it is.
I really don't understand this boy at all. He just doesn't make any sense at all.

In other news, I dropped my phone in the toilet this past Wednesday! I know, I know, contain your applause. Some of you may have already known this if you follow me on Twitter.
But yes, I dropped my phone into a toilet.
Literally, not even a half second before I heard the dreaded splash, I had been wondering where I had put my phone.
Apparently, I had stuck it in my back pocket where it had somehow worked it's way to the very top. When I walked into the stall and turned around to hang my purse? Splassssshhhhh. Into the loo it went!
My face probably looked like I had been shot, and I grabbed my phone out of the toilet.
Luckily, there was nothing in the toilet besides toilet water.

It was at that moment that I had to make a very important decision. Should I go to the bathroom and hastily clean my phone in the less than two minutes before my class? Or should I just not go to the bathroom and clean my phone?
I cleaned my phone.

After I got home and left it in rice over night, it worked totally fine. Yay, rice!

Peace, love, and daleks,

Sunday, August 19, 2012

What I Believe

I have written this post at least three times now, and never published a single one of them. They end up as lonely drafts on my "posts" page, and I don't revisit them again.
But today, I feel like posting it. I don't care if it means losing followers, either.
From the very start of this blog, I've said that this is for me. It's a project that continuously documents my life, and I don't sugar coat. I also don't omit any of my views, opinions, or beliefs.
That being said, I'm going to talk about my religious views.

I was raised a Christian. I went to church on Sunday, I took part in the youth group, I went on mission trips. But in the sixth grade, at the start of a terrible depression, I started to question things.
I questioned God's existence, among other things, and I felt horrible. I mean, the Christian belief is what I was raised with! It was a part of my life, and thinking for just one moment that it could all just be a very clever and elaborate story hurt me. So I stopped questioning it. I tried to move past the questions.
It's worth noting that I live in the south. People here are, for the most part, very religious and very conservative.
One day, a friend of mine asked me if I had been "saved", which is another way of saying 'baptized' in case anyone didn't know. I told her that I hadn't been, and she basically acted as if I was going to hell unless I got "saved". For a while, I let that get to me. I was worried about dying before I was baptized. And then it occurred to me. The God that I believed in wasn't that cruel or unforgiving. The God that I believed in did not condemn people to hell just because they worshiped in different ways or didn't get baptized.
As I got older, I realized that I didn't agree with many of the views of the church. I also saw how hypocritical many "Christians" could be. I saw how much they judged, and openly hated people. Now, I'm not saying every Christian is like this. My mother isn't this way.
There were just so many things that I didn't agree with.

Once, I got into a huge argument with one of my friends because he said that anyone who wasn't a Christian would be condemned to hell.
I don't believe that for a second.
Just because someone is born into a Jewish family, does not mean that they are going to be sent to hell.
I mean, come on.
But this guy, he told me that anyone who didn't buy into Christianity was going to hell.

Around the same time, I was beginning to see the blind hatred and ignorance towards homosexuals.
I heard so much about, "They choose to be gay! It's a choice!"
Why in the hell would you choose to be gay? I mean, if it was a choice I might be gay just to prove a point, but I'm not. I'm straight, and I support gay rights because gay rights are human rights. End of story.
I don't give a damn that it's in the bible. The bible was written hundreds of years ago and it wasn't written by God or Jesus. So to use it as a consistent argument to condemn homosexuality is ludicrous. This is, in fact, the same bible in which women are not seen as equals to men.

It was all of these things, and more, that led me to have beliefs of my own.
So, I have decided to outline my major beliefs right now.

  1. I believe in the existence of a God, but I don't have a religion to go with it.
    There are many different religions that believe in a singular god who is very similar to the Christian version of God. 
  2. Christianity is a fairly new religion when you look at the many different religions throughout history. 
  3. I believe in science, evolution, etc. Not that you can't believe in those things and still be a Christian, because you can. 
  4. I believe in a God that does not punish people for who they love. Also, you can be a Christian and believe that being gay is a-okay. My mom does, and she's Christian. Thank you, mom, for sharing many of my same ideals. 
  5. I don't know what comes after this life, but I don't imagine that I'll care too much since I'll be dead when I find out. As Peter Pan said, "To die will be the greatest adventure of all".
  6. I believe that there is so much that we just don't know
  7. I am perfectly happy with my idea of God. 
Those are only a few of my beliefs, but they do a good job of summing it up.

Peace, love, and Taco Bell,

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Stronger Now

My anxiety is getting worse again.
That panicky, nagging, feeling at the back of my mind is back.
It's been getting worse for a while, but I've been pushing it away and pushing it away.
But eventually, the dam that I built in my mind to hold everything back, is going to break.
Here's to hoping that I'll be strong enough to build it right back again if it does.

I can't quite think of a way to sum up the feelings that I have, and I don't want to write them all out.
Basically, I do a lot of crying. And not the kind that is usually associated with my "Sara-ness" (crying over books, movies, shows...specifically the Doomsday episode of Doctor Who), but the kind that I hate the most. The kind of crying that I do whenever my anxiety gets really bad makes me feel weak and even more stupid than I probably already feel at the time.

I get so frustrated at myself for worrying over things that I know I have no control over.
With the new school year, it has gotten even worse.
But I have a secret weapon; something that I didn't have years ago, when I was at the lowest time in my life.
I have friends.

Real friends, too. Not the flaky ones I had back then.
Nope, I've got real ones.

To all of you who are the friends I'm speaking to: If this next week, this next month, or this entire school year is hard for me, please don't leave me by myself. I've been there before, and I don't want to ever go back to that awful place. If I turn into some sort of horribly reserved, cold person, know that I'm still in there somewhere. But that's worst case scenario, of course. I plan on pulling myself out of this, even if I have to go back to a psychologist. I'm stubborn enough to think that I can do all of this on my own, and that's probably ignorant of me, but I'm going to try it anyway. I've fought this battle before, I can do it again.
I'm stronger now than I was then.

So, if I fall off into a long silence or I start crying, please yell at me to get my crap together.

Peace, love, and novel writing,

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Time Warp

Ah, the end of summer. It always comes to fast and it always seems to just show up one day.
This summer I had the privilege of babysitting two very awesome girls (ages seven and twelve), and today is my last day with them for a while. For probably a very long while, actually.
I'm happy that I might get to babysit them next summer though.

We don't get to pick the people that come into our lives. We don't get to pick how long they stay, or how short our time with them might be. They come into our lives to inspire us, to encourage us. Sometimes they come into our lives and hurt us, but they make us even stronger.
These girls came into my life and inspired me. They make me want to write some fantastic children's story.
In fact, children are the most inspiring sort of humans that I've ever met.

I'm still a kid on the inside.
I'm curious about everything, I love strange things and new things. I love adventure and risks and life.
I suppose that when you stop being curious, you aren't a kid any longer. I will never stop being curious, and therefore I will never be old. I will never stop inventing whimsical worlds in my head and writing them down.

My mother is always getting on to me for that; for going so far off into my head that I don't hear whatever it is that she's just said. I admit that it does cause problems some times, but one day it'll pay off...I hope.
There are just so many things to see every day. There is so much to learn.
There are not enough hours in the day and the night combined for me to accomplish all that I want to do.
And I guess that is something that I'm afraid of. I am afraid of dying without knowing all that I wanted to know and without seeing all of the beautiful places and people that I wanted to see.
But I suppose that is one of humankind's great curses. We have such a short time here and so much of it is wasted. I want to live the best life for me. I don't want to grow old (physically) and look back with regrets.
But I know I will, because I am a very melancholy person. Sometimes I am so bright and enthusiastic, and other times I know that I am dark and sort of dismal.
I feel like I'm always going to be this way, and I guess that's alright. It's just another thing that makes me who I am.

To the girls that I babysat this summer: Thank you for allowing me to have a job that didn't involve working.
I hope that one day I can write something for you two.

Peace, love, and Paper Cranes,

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

I'm Sick.

I'm sick of ignorance. I'm sick of people hating entire groups of people for no good reason.

I'm sick of seeing crap on the internet (especially Facebook) about how any one who is gay is going to hell and how such "perfect" Christians feel sorry for their souls.
Give me an effing break.
There are places in the bible where it says that women should not speak in churches. Places where it says you should not have tattoos, ear-piercings, etc. I especially love this next verse here: "I do not permit a woman to speak or to have authority over a man; she must be silent." 1 Timothy 2:12.
So, in other words, everyone can lay off on using the Bible against gay people. You know, unless they want to interpret the Bible in the way that women are looked down on and slaves are okay.

We realize now that slavery was entirely wrong and awful. We realize now that women and men are to be held as equals. But for some reason, people can't let the gay thing go.
I'm so freaking tired of people claiming to be such great Christians and then being so prejudiced against an entire group of people. All of it is ignorance.

If the Christian version of God hates gay people, then I don't want any part of being a Christian.
What kind of God hates people because of who they are? Kudos to the thousands of gay people who were able to keep their faith when they were being told that they were living in sin and undoubtedly going to hell.
My God loves and does not hate people or judge people or condemn people to hell for who they love.

My mom told me once that if I or my brother were gay that she'd probably love us even more than she already does, because we would have to grow up in a society that, for the most part, thinks that gays are wrong. Anyone who is gay in a society like this has to be incredibly strong and incredibly positive.

As for gay marriage? I say, why the hell not.
What does it matter?
I found this great pie chart on Pinterest that I'd like to share.

There you have it.

The way I see it, gay rights are human rights. One of my favorite actors (and imaginary husband) Daniel Radcliffe said, "You don't have to be gay to support gay rights, you just have to be human."
I'm a very passionate person. I'm passionate about so many things. One of those things happens to be the hope for a future where people can finally stop hating and let things be. Let's all love each other shall we?

Peace, love, and being a tiny blue dot surrounded by red,

Sunday, July 29, 2012


Recently, I watched a documentary called Life In A Day. It is by far the most moving documentary I've seen in a very long time. You can watch the trailer below, and you can click the link below the trailer to see the entire documentary which is free to watch on YouTube.

The documentary is made up of video submissions from ordinary people all over the world. Though it should be mentioned that some of the ordinary people have extraordinary stories to share. 

I think I cried every ten minutes or less (both happy and sad tears). 
The film is beautiful. It truly captures part of what it means to be human. 
There are so many sharp contrasts between the many different walks of life, that it is astounding. One of my favorite scenes asked people what they had in their pockets. One man reached into his pocket and took out the keys to a Ferrari, while a man in a small jungle village turned out the pockets of his pants that were little more than rags and said, "nothing. I have nothing in my pockets." 
It is painful to see how hard life can be for so many people when we complain about such stupid things.
My favorite scene of the movie takes place in a cemetery in the middle east.
A man lives in a small shack with thirteen other people on the outskirts of the large burial ground.
He says, and I am not quoting this word for word because I couldn't find the exact quote on the internet,
"This is my story: I can't work because my wife is dead and I have to take care of my children. My twenty year old son is mentally retarded and so we have to tie him up all day to keep him from wandering off. We have no running water, no drains, and no electricity, but we are alive. God will not forget about us. I do not believe that God would put a population here if he did not have a plan for us."

If you do watch the documentary, tell me what you thought about it in the comments :)

Peace, love, and humanity,

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Say, Sara- Staying Close

Say, Sara
When you graduate do you still plan on being close to your friends? 

Why yes, I do plan on staying close to them.
Paige and Elizabeth are like my sisters. I know that I annoy them from time to time, and that Paige gets tired of hearing about my latest nerd obsessions, but we all love each other dearly.
Those two girls can make me laugh even when I'm having a horrible day. We build each other up, create imaginary murder plots for the people who hurt us, and do the silliest things.
I honestly don't know what I would do without either of them.

Me and Cap'n!

When we go off to college and end up miles away from each other, I don't think anything will change.
At least I really hope not. I think they'll still be my favorite confidants. 
Assuming that I get married one day, I'll have them be my maids of honor because I could never choose just one of them :)

I know that people change and sometimes grow apart, but I feel like the second part is optional. 
People grow apart because one or both of them needs that change to make things better for themselves. 
Sometimes people can hold you back from greatness. They can knock you down, trample you, and still be unable to see what went wrong. But some people, the people who are better for you to be around, they will raise you up. They'll push you out of your comfort zone and allow you to reach goals in your life that you never thought possible. Those people are the kind of humans I like to surround myself with.
I don't see myself growing apart from Paige and Elizabeth. If they ever grew apart from me, I'd be pretty sad and I wouldn't really know what to do.

The three of us are like really mature kids.
I remember one day a year or two ago when Paige and I were bored out of our minds.
Sure, we could have played on the internet or watched TV, but what did we do? We ended up having the "Walnut Olympics" in my backyard.
We got out a bucket and threw huge walnuts at it from varying distances. We lined walnuts up on the picnic table and threw more walnuts at them to clear the table off. We even hung walnuts from clothes pins on the laundry line and tried to knock them off with other walnuts.
That was when I knew that Paige and I were pretty awesome people. Because who else has fun at like fifteen or fourteen years old by throwing around some walnuts? I think we could do the very same thing now and still have fun. :)

Paige, me, and my brother :)

In conclusion, I do plan on staying close to my friends after high school. And not just Paige and Elizabeth, but all of the wonderful people that I have come to know over the last couple of years.
I hope that no matter where we all end up in the world that we can make time for each other.

Peace, love, and skating,

Monday, July 23, 2012

Scribbling: #2

Niceville, Florida 2012

I am silent,
Down narrow hallways do I creep 
To the room that holds the girl in a light and shallow sleep. 

She that resides between the spaces, 
In a land of shifting faces, 
Does taunt me with her effortless rest.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Friends Are Friends

The other day my friends Koas and Olle were brought up in conversation and someone said, "But you met them on the internet" as if this fact somehow made our friendship less real.
To be honest, it bugged me quite a bit.

We live in a world where the people we meet do not always have to be seen in person.
We might meet them on an internet forum, Xbox Live, Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, etc.
And, if they seem legit enough, we build relationships with them.
Or you might be stupid and fall for a con or something, but that's not what I'm talking about today.

Last November I met two people who I would later consider two of my very good friends.
I'll be honest, when I first started talking to them, I struggled with understanding what they were saying.
I guess that's my Southern American-ness coming back to bite me. :)

It was my best friend Paige who told me to get on Xbox that day. Her message read, "Get on Xbox! There are guys with accents! :)". And so I got on Xbox.
The Guys With Accents turned out to be Koas (he's English) and Olle ( he's Swedish), and I felt like an idiot because I kept having to say, "What?" because I couldn't understand them half the time. I don't remember if my accent caused them problems or not. :)

It didn't really make sense for me to have problems understanding Koas, I had grown up with Harry Potter and other shows or movies that had a primarily British cast. But for whatever reason, I was having issues and I felt reallly stupid.
It turned out not to matter though, I got used to both of their accents pretty fast. Occasionally, I still have problems with their slang :) 

We started talking on Skype, which is one of my favorite inventions. The biggest problem? The time difference. Koas is six hours ahead of me and Olle is seven hours ahead. So as soon as I got off the bus (this was before I could drive) I would make a beeline for my room and log on to talk to them.
Olle even tried to teach me some Swedish once. It turns out that I'm too American for his fancy pants language :)

The point is, it doesn't matter how you meet someone. Friends are friends, no matter how far away they are.
I tell Koas and Olle more than I tell some of my friends who live just down the street from me.
And, they never fail to make me laugh :)

Peace, love, and British Television,

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

A Weekend Involving Time Travel and Symphony No. 5

This weekend was awesome. I saw The Amazing Spider-man with Paige and Elizabeth on Saturday. It was great! :)
On the way home, it was raining and thundering and I had one of my idiotic ideas.

Me: We're about to pass Dylan's house (one of our friends), put my Ipod on Symphony No. 5.
Paige: Why?
Me: Just do it!
Paige:... Found it!
Me: Alright, now text Dylan from my phone and tell him to go outside.
Paige: Why?
Me: Just do it!
Paige: I don't think I like where this is going.
Me: *smiles devilishly*
Paige: Alright, I sent it.
Me: Fantastic.

A few minutes later, we were about to be in front of Dylan's house.

Me: Alright, play it!! *Rolls down window, blares Symphony No. 5 while making my own imitation of gangster signs out the window*
Paige: *While laughing* Oh wow, how do your seats lean back again?

I love making Paige laugh :) But alas, my efforts were for nothing. Dylan was at Cap'n D's. 

In other non-important news, I've recently become a fan of Doctor Who, which is something I never thought I would be. I'm always hearing references and my friend Tristan watches it, so I decided that I wanted to know what it was all about. And frankly? It's amazing.
It has made me laugh, cry, jump off the couch out of excitement, cover my eyes because the Silence and the Angels scare me, and fall in love with more fictional characters.
I've been watching it for about a week and a half and I'm already almost done with two seasons with Matt Smith as The Doctor. I also had to add Matt Smith to my long list of husbands.
He now ranks number three, right behind Adrien Brody :)

Essentially, I'm a very huge geek. I've always been like that, and I've always embraced it.
I'm always looking for a new book series or a new show to fall in love with, and now I've got a new one :)
Paige still refuses to watch it with me, but I know she'll have to eventually...When all of our friends are watching it!!! MWAHAHAHA! 

I just love everything about it. It's smart, witty, cheesy, sad, tragic, etc.
And, The Doctor is amazing. :)

Peace, Love, and Fezzes,

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Say, Sara- Building A Blog

Say Sara,
How did you create such a fantastic blog?
I need some advice, I started blogging yesterday and with only one reader (who's one of my best friends) I feel like writing for ghosts :)
How can I get more readers? What can I do to better my blog?
I really admire you, you made a wonderful work in your blog, so I think you could help me:) Thanks:)
A Newbie And Supporter,

Thank you very much for reading! I love hearing from my readers. It makes me all happy and junk :)
Pretty much everyone has a hard time with readers at first. But trust me, they will stumble across your blog eventually and if they like what they see? They'll probably stick around. 

After you've written a few posts, you might want to do some experimenting with the actual look of the blog. I recommend finding free blog backgrounds on sites such as Shabby BlogsDotty Dot Dot Designs, or sites similar to those. But, it's entirely up to you :)
After I had my blog for a few months, I realized that I actually did want to hear feedback on the things I was writing about and without readers, feedback is sort of hard to come by. 

So I started searching around for other teen bloggers, and I found a few. They read my stuff and followed and I did the same for them.
Also, posting a link to your blog on Facebook is a good way to start, although I don't blame you if you don't want people who see you every day to read your stuff. I know I didn't when I first got started. 

Also, don't forget to add labels to every post. Doing so gives search engines something to find and allows more people to come across your blog. (By the way, drop me a link to your blog in the comments!)

You may have already done this, but having multiple pages on your blog might be something fun for both you and your readers. I'm about to redo a few of mine and turn them into something new.
Offering a way for readers to contact you very simply and easily is a great way to connect to your audience. In fact, if I didn't have Say, Sara, then I probably wouldn't be talking to you right now and that would be stink-ish.
Also, making a blog button and a Facebook page should draw attention. 
If others really like your blog, they can grab your button and put it on their own page. 
I hope I was able to help you in some way :) 

Peace, Love, and Bowties-That-Are-Cool, 

Thursday, July 12, 2012

The South

I have always talked about how much I want to get out of Tennessee on this blog.
Sure, I still want to travel the world and live in tons of places, but I understand now that I am going to miss it here.
For those of you who don't really understand how to picture the south, I'll try my best to paint it for you.

In the south, it is common to see little boys with mud smeared faces playing alongside half dried up creek beds. There are plenty of ghost stories and tall tales that have been passed down for generations.  
There are winding dusty back roads that display the land in ways that cannot be described as anything other than beautiful. 
In the south, there is the smell of sweet iced tea on the breath of pretty much everyone. 
Hands hang out of rolled down car windows and wave at passing cars. 
People do a lot of waving here. The person doing the waving most likely doesn't even recognize the passing car, but they still wave and smile. 
Everyone knows everyone, at least in some small way, here. 

There are lightning bugs in the summer, and the forests are set ablaze with hues of red and orange in the fall.
Summer nights are spent conversing with neighbors on front porches with sweet tea and lemonade.
The stories told of past adventures bring smiles to everyone's face.

In the south, people tend to support each other. They are genuinely happy that you won whatever it was because you happen to be the police chief's son's wife's niece's third cousin's husband.

There are parades held at homecoming and at Christmas in which the band always marches.
There are quilts hand sewn for grandchildren and logs in fireplaces.

But, overall, my favorite thing about living in the south are the stories told by the people that I love.
I usually sit, listening quietly and laughing with everyone else, as I hear for the five hundredth time the story about my father being tied to a tree with a hose pipe when he was a little boy.
Or the plentiful ghost stories that my mother, aunt, and grandmother never seem to run out of.

There are stars here, though not as many as there are in more rural parts of the world, and I smile each time I see Orion in the sky.
Once, when I was about six or seven, I remember walking up the sidewalk to my nanny's house and looking up at the starry night sky.
"There must be something else out there besides us," I said to my parents. They both agreed.
That night, I first understood how small I really was.

There is something about the quality of light here that is utterly enchanting.
In the early morning and late afternoon, the land is full of both soft and sharp contrasts between light and shadow. There is bright green grass against deep orange sunsets. There is the black of the asphalt beside the field of wildflowers.

In the south, the summers are hot and the winters are frigid.
In the south, there is plenty of room to run and explore in the woods.
In the south, I learned about the value of family and the blessing of friends.

Peace, Love, and Late Afternoon Light,

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Say, Sara- On Rumors

Say, Sara
How do you stay so strong!? Your so committed to your blog, and your music. I don't even know you, and your like my ideal! I check your blog almost every day. Just to see what you have to say! I hope you continue your blog forever! It makes me cry, and laugh (sometimes at the same time)! :). So, I was wondering, There is this nasty rumor going around my home town about me... I don't even want to show my face anymore! :(. What do I do? How can I stop it!?

A lover of your work,

Thank you for saying those things :) It makes me extremely happy to know that someone understands what I'm writing about.
I only consider myself strong sometimes. No one can be strong all the time because at some point in all of our lives something will break us. The only thing that really matters is how we put ourselves back together.
As for my blog and my music, I look to writing (both music and stories that I can never get quite right) as a way to think. When I write, I never know exactly what the outcome might be, I just know that I have to get my thoughts onto paper.

Now, to answer your question.
I wish that I could tell you the exact solution to stopping a hurtful rumor. Sadly, there isn't a real way.
What I can tell you, is that you are stronger than the words of people who don't know what they're talking about. I've been the victim of rumors in the past and it is definitely not a fun place to be in.
People are so quick to assume that whatever they hear from someone else is true. People are also quick to judge you based on these things.

When I was in middle school, people were not very nice to me. I was (and still am) a weird kid.
I got called awful names, and if you might recall from an earlier post, a particularly hateful girl spat on my shoes.
Later, just last year, someone told me that they were only mean to me because they had heard something about me from someone else. Needless to say, that person is not my friend anymore.

So how do you beat the rumor?
Be so much better than the idiots who are spreading it around.
Be strong, be wise, and most of all, be brave.

People who spread rumors do it for attention. They do it to single out someone they might label as weak.
But guess what? You aren't weak.
You have more strength than all of the people who believed in and spread that rumor.
Why? Because you heard those things being said about you, and you kept going.

Never let anyone's idea of you define who you are. Rise above their ignorance and make them regret the things they've said by setting an example of epic coolness. :)

Peace, love, and battle scars,

Thursday, June 28, 2012

The Girl in the Mirror

Originally, this was going to be posted on Elizabeth's blog, but I decided to keep it :) I promise that I'll still give you a post, Cap'n!

When I look in the mirror, I see a pair of tired gray eyes staring back at me.
I see unremarkable features that are splattered here and there with freckles.
The girl in the mirror has bitten lips from times of either deep thinking or anxiety.
Her hair isn’t soft, it is coarse and brown.

The girl in the mirror doesn’t smile back at me; she only stares, as if asking the silent question, “who are you?”
I don’t say anything because I’m not sure how to answer that question.
The simple answer is Sara.
“I am Sara,” I might say to her. But that answer would not suffice.
There are so many other girls who share my name. So many girls named Sara or Sarah who each have different hopes for their futures.
“I am a dreamer,” I might say to her. But that answer is still too vague.
There are plenty more dreamers in this world. It is not a quality that defines an entire person’s spirit.
If I were to answer her with such a simple observation, she would only continue to stare blankly at me.
But I don’t know how to answer her. I don’t know what words to use, because I don’t know what makes me who I am.
Is it a collection of memories, strung together in a complex pattern?
Is it all of the countless dreams of mine, compounded into one?
Is it the trillions of individual thoughts and conversations that I have had over sixteen years that say, “This is me. This is only Sara.”?
I doubt that I will ever know.

And then, I know what my answer would be.

To the girl in the mirror, with the gray eyes and the bitten lips I would say,
“I am both younger and older than I should be. I never understand the injustices of this world and of this society, but I am almost calloused to them. I am as strong as I am weak.
I am as brave as I am a coward. My voice is both loud and silent.”
“My life is a collection of moments. It is cold grass on my bare feet, and breeze from the river on my face. It is the feeling of being alone in a very dark place. It is lanterns filled with candle light and cool blue water. It is the melancholy that accompanies the reappearance of winter.”
“I am a collage of favorite things. I am a blank paper notebook that waits to be filled with words. I am old, yellow paged books and rusty keys. I am lockets and I am pocket watches. I am dog eared pages and crumpled paper fortunes.”
When I look at the girl, the side of her mouth quirks up to reveal laugh lines from many days and night spent with good company.
She looks as if she’s not convinced, that she wants me to go on, but I do not.

I simply smile back at her, and leave the room.

I do not need to explain who I am to her.

She already knows.

Monday, June 25, 2012

In Between Darkness and Light

Today, as I rummaged through a box of old notebooks and journals, I came across the journal that I wrote in while I was going through my hardest depression. As soon as I saw it my stomach twisted in  knots and memories of the way I felt during that dark point in my life came flooding back.
I knew that the words I had written when I was in that terrible place were gone, burnt to ashes and scattered, but just the sight of it saddened me. 

On the cover, there are vintage looking photographs of faeries, but on the inside there are the torn reminders of what was once held there. 
I remember the day my mother gave it to me. It was the suggestion of my psychologist. 
She told me to write down every bad thought that crossed my mind, and I did as she said even though some were too horrible to think about, let alone document for other's eyes. 
Writing in that journal and letting the psychologist read it was like letting her into my mind, which at that time, was a very dark and dreadful place. 

But today I opened it again. 
Just as I suspected, there were the ink stained shreds of paper along the binding where countless pages had been ripped out. But on one page, there was a poem. 
Something I had written as I was coming out of my depression, but was not yet fully healed. 

Can't you see she's crying? 
She's at war with herself.

Can't you see she's lying,
When she says she feels just fine?

All this time she has been trapped, 
Tormented by her own mind. 

How can you escape yourself? 
Is there any honest way? 

When she cries herself to sleep at night,
She promises herself she'll stay.

No one can ever understand
What it's like to hold her hand
With a dagger at her side. 

When I was in that place, that place in between darkness and light, I learned what it meant to love life. 
It took me more than two years, but I pulled myself out of it. I put myself back into life. 

Now I'm happy, even if I have to fight depression from time to time. 
I'm in more control of my own life now. I don't feel like I'm falling. 

Because when I feel myself slipping again, I know my friends and family are there to lift me up. 
They are there to make me remember who I am, and why I do the things that I do. 
They make me remember my purpose, and they make me feel wanted. 

I love them more than words can express. 

Peace, love, and Minecraft, 

Thursday, June 14, 2012

One Year

A year ago, I began a blog.
The name came from the bad habit I have of falling asleep with my glasses on my face and then waking up to find them sort of knocked askew on the bridge of my nose. It took me several months to realize how close those two words came to summing up a few years of my life as well. From then on, it stuck.

I started the blog with no intention of ever having readers. I figured that I was the only one who understood the things I was talking about and that everyone else thought I was crazy. I also thought that what I wrote wouldn't be good enough to be noticed.

A year later, and I can proudly say that people actually do want to read my stuff as much as I want to read theirs. Having a blog allows people to connect with you on a very personal level and writing about your life (unedited) takes real guts. Thank you to all the other bloggers who decided to take that risk and let the world know you.

In celebration of one year with this blog, something that has become a part of my routine and my life, I decided to share some of the quotes and pictures from past posts.

  • When we aren't going by the precise measurement of time, we find ourselves living. 
  • I am awkward. And I embrace this. 

  • I guess blogging is a lot like writing songs. I never get to choose whether a song is happy or sad, it sort of just seems to choose for itself. 
  • That river has been flowing for hundreds of years and when I'm dead and gone, it will probably still be flowing. I don't mater to that river. I'm as insignificant as the little minnows that swim along the banks where the water is shallow. 
  • Not everyone gets old. Being old is just a part of the way you think. If you still think like a kid, you still act like one. But you just have to be a more mature kid. 

  • We spend our whole lives dreaming, and not enough time living.

  • So what if my dreams are far fetched? All that means is that I have ambition.
  • My biggest expense has always been books.

  • No one  is normal. It's an obvious fact. Normal is just a personal opinion.
Just to show you how far I've come since the blog creation: 

Maybe one of these days, I'll be brave enough to sing in front of people, but today? Not happening.

  • There's always hope. Even though you might not be able to envision a future where you're happy, there is one.

  • We are all so quick to judge, no matter what we say. We look at people and don't really see them. We see the vicious rumors that people start for the fun of it. But tell me, how much fun do you get out of watching a classmate or anyone for that matter, wither away like that?
  • We've all tried to fit in with the wrong people.
  • Nothing says conspicuous like a fifteen year old girl dressed in a toga banging on the band room door.  
  • The people that I think are the most beautiful, are people who don't realize how pretty they really are. Like my best friend Paige for instance. 

  • This blog is definitely not all sunshine and rainbows and glitter. It's the real stuff that seriously gets me pissed off.
  • It's not that all girls bother me, obviously. I have some really awesome girlfriends, but I'm talking about the stereotypical drama starters that go through boyfriends as fast as a woodchuck goes through wood.
Remember the first header? Yeah, I didn't think so :)

  • There's nothing like having a crappy morning, and then going into guitar class to have your ears start bleeding from how loud the amps are.

  • When it comes right down to it, all of us have to just learn to be who we are. During all of that learning and growing, we have to accept that it's really okay to grow apart from the people that are holding you back. 
    It's not that these people are bad people, it's just that, when you first met them you were the same. Somewhere along the way, you just realized that you wanted different things.

  • Sometimes, you just have to be made to step outside your little bubble, and go on an adventure.
  • Sometimes, we have to fight to live. Even if the only thing we might fighting is ourselves.

  • Don't ever let your spirits be broken by your own self. Don't ever just give up because it's the easiest way out.

  • If I could go back in time and take pictures of days in my life where I felt truly alive, I would go back to this day first. I would take a picture of me and my grandfather and my brother, standing in the opening of that garage watching the rain. I would take a picture of me and my brother, covered from head to toes in mud and wet grass, laughing like maniacs.

  • And when I was up there, I forgot. I forgot about the hundreds of students, teachers, and parents watching me. I forgot about the lights that were blinding me. I forgot about everything. It was just me in my room, singing my brother to sleep. 

Here's to new beginnings and to hoping for another eighty years of documenting all the idiosyncrasies in my life :) And, here's to going back to where this journey began for me.
For those of you who have read the better part of this blog, thank you for being a fantastic support system.

Peace, love, and Point A,