Dreaming About Poetry

      In my dreams I stand alone with only words to comfort me.

       With only a book but no poems to fill onto the blank pages.

                    I sleep disappointed but soon I will awaken.

        For now I’m dreaming about poetry with nowhere to put it.

Short but sweet. A little poem I created on a whim. -Blogger101




Happiness is a direction, not a destination. What does that mean? Well, in our mundane lives we cannot always be contempt with ourselves and the actions other individuals enforce upon us. Although we attach ourselves to the idea that it could someday happen, the reality of it all is far less then what we imagine. Faith and hope are two things that we must never lose sight of, use failure as your motivation that will someday guide you toward happiness. Connect with those around you and focus the bit of happiness you hold, towards another human being. They say we are all “one of kind” I agree with that statement to a certain degree. As much as we like to share our individualism, there comes a point where we find similarity in the characteristics between us, and in today’s society it has become much easier to do. Be a leader, and break away from the consistent slang my generation has began to acknowledge. Find peace in doing a different or unique thing.

Because I can write, while hiding behind a computer, it’s a lot easier to say what I want to get across to the world, and that is, adventure is not all its cracked up to be, there are consequences for making bad decisions, and if you can avoid them, its better to do that rather than halve to experience them. Be different, be bold, stay positive, but most of all be a role model.

My Year Is A Metaphor

This school year has acted as if it was a baseball game. I went in it feeling skeptical about the outcome, but put forth the best attitude and hit the ball as hard and with most effort I could. Some people struck me out more then once, but once I could figure out how they played, I learned how to go for the pitches I knew I could get. When I hit a home run, I was never applauded, I just accepted it and told myself “there’s always going to be another opportunity, not every point deserves encouragement” Now it’s come to the end of the game, I’m the last one to pitch, and I know that wherever the baseball happens to go, if I hit it as hard as I can, I’ve already won the game. -Blogger101

Summer Fades To Fall

It’s seems like only yesterday I was occupied with nerves of the phenomena high school would bring to my life. Here I am nine months later, with only a week, and few short days left of freshman year. Reality took quite a while to sink in, I actually survived! After the next two months I’ll be settling in to sophomore year, and this will all seem like a dream. I’m planning on certainly getting involved this summer, volunteering wherever I can, working to the best of my ability and just making it about using the little free time I have productively. This year has definitely brought out the best in me, I cannot wait to see what else high school has to offer over the next three years.

Morning Sun

Monday’s ritual

HarsH ReaLiTy

I meet my fears daily. They stand upon the deck with me, I feel their hands upon my shoulder. Their added weight does not comfort me, it in fact causes me to lean slightly to the left and may cause future harm to my knees. I think I will ask my doctor about that.

The coming sun does not portray a singular shadow upon my unswept deck. Instead I see a crowd behind me. I turn my head, there is no one there. Their voices are clear in the morning air, we pause in debate and watch a duck fly by looking for the lake a block over. It captures our attention for a moment and we forget our prescribed parts in this play. Reality quickly fixes this momentary lapse in attention.

I look down and see their eyes upon me. My eyes. A new day begins.


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