Dare to peek inside my brain

Don't ask me why I decided to put this blog under the Writing and Literature Blog. It really doesn't fit under that category. It's more like a personal diary. I write whatever comes through my messed up head.

SO enjoy!

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Aim for the Escape Route

What’s small, annoying, and hard to kill? If you guessed the obvious answer, then you’re absolutely correct. (If you were thinking your little brother, than I’m sorry) I’m talking about those pesky full grown maggots with wings that never die by the slap of the swatter. Killing them is almost impossible. I’ve never had success with killing these insects, so I’ve learned to just deal with them. I never understood why flies were so successful in avoiding the swatter until I read a brief article on Yahoo.

I soon learned that a fly’s brain is wired to dodge the swatter. Whenever a fly senses a possible threat, it instinctively changes their preflight posture to escape in the opposite direction. Flies, I never knew, are pretty smart insects. Michael Dickinson of the California Institute of Technology explained that in just 200 milliseconds, a fly can figure out where a threat is coming from and from there, can set in motion, a set of movements to position legs and wings.

If you swat from the front, the fly will move the middle legs forward, lean back and raise their back legs for a backward take off.

If you’re trying to swing the swatter from the side, be cautioned that the fly has a way to outsmart this. The fly will only lean to the other side and then take off.

To successfully kill a fly, the trick is not to aim for the starting position. Dickinson advises to aim for the escape route.

Source: yahoo news.

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It really is true: One person's trash is another person's treasure.

When it comes to looking for great deals and bargains, I don’t settle for less. I love cutting coupons, looking for sales, shopping at garage sales, and browsing through items at the thrift store. I like to think that one person’s trash will eventually be my treasure

As a college student, who is financially independent, I rely on bargains, thrift stores and coupons to help me get the things that I need but can’t afford. After all, I’m 23, do I really need a matching dining set, or a living room set? Like a gypsy, I never stay in one place. Every year, I move from one bug infested apartment complex to the next.

Currently I live at a pretty decent place: a spacious 2 bedroom apartment, with a huge kitchen and a good sized living room. Note: Dekalb isn’t that well known for their FABALOUS complexes. Before I moved in, I realized that I needed to get furniture. Working anywhere between part time and full time, all that money earned was going towards bills. I only make min. wage, so it really isn’t that much. I figured it wasn’t a big deal that I didn’t have couches, a dining room table, or an entertainment stand. I’ve doing well without them for several years. That was until I found about Freecycle. From there I got a free couch and love seat, a dining room table, an old t.v. (perfect AND working) and an entertainment center. I got a lot more items, but I didn’t want to exhaust you with my extensive list.

Now you may be wondering, what exactly is Freecycle? If you are familiar with the site, or have participated in it, then you can probably agree that it is a great place to get things for free. For those that haven’t heard of Freecycle, let me take a few minutes to explain what it is.

Freecycle is a non-profit organization, and it’s nature is entirely grass roots. The purpose of the organization is to have people recycle their unwanted items by giving it to people that would actually use it. After all, why throw away a perfectly working stroller when someone else could make a good use of it? A single mother raising 2 children may find this stroller as a blessing. Another purpose is to keep the landfills from getting, well, FULL. We always throw away things that WE don’t use, but rarely do we think if other people can use it. Not only am I receiver of valuables on freecycle, I am also a giver. I have a bad habit of accumulating junk I don’t need, so it’s a relief that when I post up my items, I have at least 10 people who would be willing to take them off my hands. I know I could give my items to Salvation Army, but I don’t have a car. This is another reason why I love Freecycle. People can pick your items up at any location of your choosing.

I have been spreading the word about this site to everyone that I see. I recommended it to a few people on a forum I am a part of, and already they had made arrangements to pick up a few items.

To join this wonderful Grass Root movement, visit http://www.freecycle.org. It is a truly wonderful site, and you’ll feel smart knowing that you were able to snatch up a great looking dining room set without paying for it.

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Dab on some of that Old World Perfume

My boyfriend went to New Orleans 2 weeks ago. I envy his opportunity to get out of this boring, corn infested town. Look outside my apartment window, and you'll see fields of corn, miles and miles of corn. Its exciting living in Dekalb if you enjoy husking.

Anyway, Paul told me about his adventures of New Orleans. He told me how he went to a well known Voodoo Priestess and how she invited him and his friends to a voodoo type prayer. Paul was interested, but his friends were freaked out. I asked Paul, after telling me this, why couldn't they just observe, see what was going on. Obviously I know nothing of the Voodoo rituals. If they wanted to see the prayer, they would have to be a part of it.

I want to go to New Orleans someday, but not for Mardi Gras, I want to see some of the shops in the French Quarter. Wasn't this where the setting of Gangs of New York took place? Yes, I wanna go there. There is one shop in the French Quarters I would like to see. It's the 824 Royal Street shop. They have the most amazing smelling perfume, and I can't stop sniffing it, and spraying it on my hand. Once I get a chance, I'll post up the history of the Hove Shop. Paul bought one of the 2 ounce bottles of perfume at the Hove shop for me, and out of all my dozen bottles of sprays, this one is by far, my favorite.

The smell makes me happy.

Yes...I'm going to go smell my perfume again

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A Sikh wedding

I came across this post in a Rate Desi Forum (do me a favor, and never join this forum, its filled with idiotic immature individuals who have nothing better to do than increase their social status by putting other people down.) Anyway, I saw a video, a Sikh wedding video, and more than ever, I yearned for my wedding to be like that. No, I'm not Sikh, but anything that resembles an Indian wedding would be fine with me. (Yes I'm Indian) Anyway, here is the video, I love the song and am going to see the movie that has this song (Guru) Tuesday once I get it from Blockbuster.

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Struggling thoughts of an unmotivated mind.

I feel unmotivated and unmoved. My back hurts, probably because I’ve been sleeping in the same hunched back position all night. I’ve slowly, but surely and steadily messed up my sleeping schedule. I am now function on Indian standard time, sleeping during day, living through the night. I can’t help it, I’m a night person. I woke up mid afternoon only to have the annoying sun blind me in my eyes. Even shutting the blinds didn’t help. The rays still found a way to sneak through the cracks.

I’m currently not enrolled in college, and it currently stinks. 23, with 125 college credits on her transcript, I still am unsure of my future. I’m struggling to get an independent status since I’m not yet 24. My request got denied solely on the basis that I could not have employers write my letter on my behalf, it had to be close friends or relatives. Isn’t that biased? That’s not what the folks at financial aid services thought. If my request doesn’t go through, that means I can’t finish school until September of 2009. There is no way, I’ve been in school far too long.

I also struggle to pay bills while looking for a job. I’m thinking of selling off some of my stuff I haven’t used. I have a pair of shorts, from Rue 21, never used. I bought it for 20 bucks. I hope I can return it. I figured food is more important than short shorts.

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Murder of hearts.

The tears trickles down her face
and into the dirt filled hole
The promise he had broken
from years before
had left her broken
Today was the day she would get everything back

Her fingers are clenched tightly around the metal dagger
She looks at the lifeless body that lies innocently
Lips sealed, unwavering and sealed with determination
Slowly she starts to stab the victim of her obsession
A lifeless corpse that had driven her to depression

Unaware of the wilderness she continues
Blood mixes with the wet soil
Repeatedly she inserts the knife in then out
Tears mix in with the blood flow
Suddenly she remembers the ultimate promise
Laughing, she aims for the heart

Very gently she traces a heart with her manicured nail
Not thinking about the next few seconds
she takes her weapon of revenge
and carves out his chest, bends over
and grabs the heart.

Warm, bloody, and thick, she smiles
Satisfied, she raises the heart to the glow of the moon
Her promise had been fulfilled.

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Boy With a Coin

As you know, this blog also includes poetry put to song. Iron and Wine, one of my favorite bands, is known for his amazing song writing skills. Many of his songs incorporate religion, however, he does not practice any. One of my favorite songs by him is "Boy with a Coin"


A boy with a coin he found in the weeds
With bullets and pages of trade magazines
Close to a car that flipped on the turn
When God left the ground to circle the world

A girl with a bird she found in the snow
Then flew up her gown and that’s how she knows
If God made her eyes for crying at birth
Then left the ground to circle the earth

A boy with a coin he crammed in his jeans
Then making a wish he tossed in the sea
Walked to a town that all of us burn
When God left the ground to circle the world

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Imperfect to Perfection

I am imperfect.
I am proud.
Because I am not perfect.

I am glad I don't have model thighs.
That my eyes aren't the dreamy type.
All that matters is that they can cry.

I am thankful that my hair is not plastered on my head.
It's not tame and obedient.
It dances to the wind instead.

I am grateful that my body isn't a perfect ten.
I'm satisfied with the way it is.,
even though I am unhappy about it, time and again.

I am relieved that because I know
the way of being human
and how it goes.
God didn't make me into a Barbie.
So stop looking at my looks.
My inside is what you should see.

I am human no matter what they say.
I am imperfect to perfection.
A human, a girl, a woman,
who can hold her head high when facing rejection

I am imperfect and I am proud.
I ain't perfect.
I'll say it proud and OUT LOUD!
Being imperfect is the best way to go.
Being perfect gets you nowhere.
There is nothing to know.

So I guess I'm saying,
for a human to be perfect
They got be imperfect.
That's the way the human game is playing.
Imperfect to perfection.
There is no other
Exception.

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Happy Place

Welcome to my happy place
A place that will automatically
bring a smile to your face.

Here there are no drugs, war, crime
hatred or anger.
All there is, is time.
Time to enjoy beauty and to relax
Here is a place like the peaceful woods
where the trees have never touched an axe.

In my happy place there is no such thing as pain.
Rainbows always appear
from the misty falling rain.
In this magical place
you can take all the time you want.
Here you don't have time to face
You can dance barefoot or scream.
You can spin uncontrollably, jump
giggle, shout or dream

Everything here is your choice.
There's peace and quiet
and the only thing you will hear is your voice.
Here there's warm colored sand by a sparkling lake.
The lake is clean and pure all around
so you can feel its soothing touch.
Flowers of all kinds cover the ground
All you will feel is tingly with the cool water touching your feet.
The sun shining brilliantly and radiantly
warming you with its heat

Here there is no such thing as being to hot or too cold,
too fat or too thin,
to young or to old
You can be whoever you want to be.
Do what ever you want to do.
In this place, let imagination set you free.
Here there are no heartbreaks or mad obsessions.
Here you can reflect and even reveal things you never knew.
No one here will hear your secrets or your confessions.
In my happy place you'll never get bored or sad.
You'll get peace, quiet, beauty
and all the things you wished you'd had.

This is a place where the beauty never dies,
and the only thing you have to do to get there
is close your eyes

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The untold version of Cinderella

Cinderella has something on her mind.

Her eyes are scanning around
looking for the time.
Her white dress and make up on her face.
Such a beautiful girl,
that feels completely out of place.
Prince Charming knows she's the one,
but he doesn't know that
she just wants to have fun.
She uneasily looks around,
walking swiftly
as her dress touches the ground.
Tick-Tock.
Music echoes through the halls,
humming steadily with the sound of the clock.
Her heart is going but her feet are planted to the floor.
She's not ready yet.
She wants to be free, she wants to be soar.
The prince surprisingly takes her hand, hoping for a chance.
Bowing gracefully,
he asks her for a dance
As they dance he gazes into her eyes.
Right then and there he knew,
for her he would die
She fell in love too,
But she wasn't ready yet,
She knew what she had to do,
So when the clock turned 12 on the dot,
her feet became unplanted
out of their spot.
She ran down the stairs in flight
Prince charming reaches his hands out,
but she was already gone.
His heart broken, and filled with fright.
Here was a woman he loved.
A woman, he was sure that
was sent from above.
He couldn't figure why she couldn't love anyone else.
Poor broken hearted prince charming couldn't realize that
Cinderella needed to find herself.

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CHILDHOOD

Where have all our childhood memories been gone?
When life was just one big song
Not a care or worry was on the earth
We never saw the anger violence or hurt
We spent the day playing and night dreaming
Later on in life, visions of the world left us screaming

We looked for comfort and hope
Growing up was sometimes too much to cope
But at the same time we knew
That a world of our own was needed
And sometimes in that we succeeded
But there were times we couldn’t take it
Just felt like giving up and throwing a fit

Some days we went through a moment (or more)
Where we just didn’t care
Blamed the world because it was just not fair
Sometimes we isolated ourself
and set our social habits aside on a shelf
But then there were times we wanted to flourish
To be the center of earth and be noticed
Some of our attempts lead to a desperate measure
A willingness to fit in sometimes lead to other people’s pleasure

We went through friends, some bad some good
Some of us looked at them to see where we stood
Then discovered a true friend vs. a fake one
We have discovered that the true friend stood out
The one who knew what we were really about
The one who brought out the light and the smiles
Who’d be willing to walk in our shoes for a million miles

Sure enough besides choosing bad friends at times
We have made other mistakes
Some so big that it raised the stakes
But then some so stupid we’d slap our head
When we try to fix it, the opposite would sometimes happen instead
And then we’d get mad
And complain how the world is so screwed up

But then we slowly start to realize…
Life is like a roller coaster
With its twists and turns
Points when our stomachs churn
Can’t stop a roller coaster in the middle of the ride
Same way with life
You gotta keep on going, you gotta strive
No matter how much life may “bite”
No matter what, you gotta fight
Can’t hold back, after all it is your life

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No Longer

When clutching my head,
and dragging my knuckles
across the ceramic floor
wasn't enough to escape
your abuse,
I threw myself on concrete
and prayed I would drown
in blood.
Quiet and unnoticed
But even that didn't work.
My body was a painting
of your destructive results,
and my shame and pain
added the final touch.
Because then I was too weak
to spill myself to the ones I love
Because then nothing else mattered
but you
but me
but us.
Now I no longer have the strength
to carry on your burden.
No longer will I risk
everything I have lost
all over again.
I grow sick
looking at these wounds
we have both given me.
And I cry every night
because four years with you
got me a contract with the devil.
I'll rip our hearts apart
and from the scattered pieces
I'll quickly pick up my remains

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SHAMED

When I was no younger than you
they used to slap me silly
with a wooden yardstick.
I'd scream so loud
my screams pierced
the suburban skies.
And our nosy neighbor,
in her burlap,
peered through our kitchen window.
And, as always, they'd smile
and pull the curtains shut
with angry hands.
Now they have found
a more hurtful way
Far worse
than my father's yardstick.
A scream not loud enough
for our neighbor to hear.
I know it
when they refuse to look at me.

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They tell me I need to be 24
Married, in the army, or in custody of the court
No court has ever taken me into custody
Yet I wander alone.
I work my hands to the core
Stay up all hours of the day
Just to earn a living
No help from mom
Dad gave up.
Told me to find my own way
Well I did, and I was doing so well
Until they told me I wasn't good enough
to become an independent.

So the poem pretty much says it all... I hit a snag in my life which postponed my schooling. I got refused financial aid (trying to apply again) as an independent. My parents and I haven't been speaking because of differences (mainly due to the fact that I wanted to do things my way, and not the way that was laid out for me) I was studying to become a teacher, and everything was going fine, until I was told I didn't have enough support that I was an independent. So this poem underlines some of the frustrations of what I am going through.

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Head aches
finger hurts
stomach hungers
hope sinks
my heart falls
Destiny runs into a wall

Love diminishes
happiness suffers
Life treats us rougher.....

I'm having a really hard time finishing up my poems, sorry guys. I feel as if I have encountered permanent writer's block

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cursed sleep

This a song by Bonnie Prince Billie, a folk singer who puts poetry to music.


I slept sweetly unpretending
that the night was always ending
she breathes lightly right next to me
and I dreamed of her inside of me

and in my dream she sang so sweetly
a melody I hope to sing
so enslaved by her sweet wonder
it cut my legs and ?? hunger

she sang my name and so engulfed
and I cried and felt my legs fail
in her arms I trembled electric
and she led me and she held me

then waking she was older still
and holds my love against it's will
in spell cast with her palms extended
cursed love is never ended

cursed eyes are never closing
cursed arms are never closing
cursed children never rising
cursed me never despising

oh I am loving always holding
epic song it tells of how
of she and I are living now

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Raggaedy Ann Doll

Say hello to me, your raggedy Ann doll
Im a doll that takes all the shit you have in store
Yes darling I take it all

We may have not met
But I know you’ll have fun with me
That is something that I can bet

You can twist my arm
Throw me around your room
Or fake me with your charm

What the hell do I know?
My head is hollow
No matter how much I hurt, to u is where I go

I am there for you to hit or hug
To love or hate
To help or bug
And when u get tired of playing with me
You can always stuff me under your bed
Pain is something I can’t see

Well I’ve got news for you now boy
I am not your raggedy ann doll no more
I refuse to be your toy

This doll has evolved into a woman
I rufuse to be torn and abused
I am no longer your fun

I’m leaving you behind
This china doll
doesn’t need your kind

So don’t even try to misuse
me or abuse me when u want
I am not something u can reuse

I won’t take it at all
Honey its time to say good bye
to your raggedy Ann Doll

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The ocean is a funny thing
calm if you don't touch it
silent, still, unmoving
yet it thrashes when stepped on
when traveled on to get to shore

Silent, still, calm, peaceful
It is big vast and beautiful
In the depths where Triton is said to reign
Lightning bolts to his disposal
he torments those who pass his territory
ready to sacrifice and unwilling to forget

Fierce and strong, ready to erupt
He stirs up the clouds paints them gray
Who is brave enough to

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My rant

So I decided to make this into a rant/poem page simply because its hard for me to generate words in fashion that can be put in a poem. I haven't left the apartment for a week, and haven't used my phone for close to a week now. Why you might ask... well because I left my charger in my boyfriend's car.

I've been really bad about loosing things. I've lost my wallet, keys (twice) my work key, and several things. For some reason its been really bad this year. I guess its because of the amount of stress I've been' going through. I seem to get distracted a lot, and I can't seem to focus on one thing.

I just dropped the education program and need to look for a back up plan. I'm out of a job and am having a hard time finding a job. My life seems to be falling apart, 23 and still not done with school... wow life does suck.

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It's hard being true
to your culture
when culture has been
replaced by a television set,
and family game night is replaced
with TV dinners and an episode
of "Family Feud."
Quality time is something of the past.
And the beagle whimpers
as we spend hours online
teaching our PC useless tricks.
Originality is still okay
But only if it's in fashion.
More is good
anything less
is worthless.
Good old American pies
are foreign.
They don't mean nothing
if it's not from
McDonald's.
War is our most practiced art.
And count on us
to butt in
where we're not needed.
Yes, the land of plenty -
We're a great big melting pot
stealing our identity
from other countries
Me? I am like no other
I am an individual
I am ...
an American.

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When clutching my head,
and dragging my knuckles
across the ceramic floor
wasn't enough to escape
your abuse,
I threw myself on concrete
and prayed I would drown
in blood.
Quiet and unnoticed
But even that didn't work.
My body was a painting
of your destructive results,
and my shame and pain
added the final touch.
Because then I was too weak
to spill myself to the ones I love.
Because then nothing else mattered
but you
but I
but us.
Now I no longer have the strength
to carry on your burden.
No longer will I risk
everything I have lost
all over again.
I grow sick
looking at these wounds
we have both given me.
And I cry every night
because four years with you
got me a contract with the devil.
I'll rip our hearts apart
and from the scattered pieces
I'll quickly pick up my remains

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Memories

Remember when we could do cartwheels
I'm sure you do
Remember when I couldn't keep my legs up straight
and flopped down instead
Stop that, don't laugh.

Remember when I hid in your closet
because I didn't want to go home
and remember when you took out your contacts
and told my sister you had a third eye

Remember when we played in the wet grass
and mom yelled at me for running barefoot on the streets
Remember when we caught lighting bugs
and suffocated them in empty peanut butter jars
We were too innocent to know that even bugs needed to breathe

Remember when we were in the same school
but not in the same classes
Remember when we you screamed at me
I never said I was sorry, not even to this day

Remember when you moved to the coast
and you left the memories of the midwest behind
Remember when we stopped talking
and one day I was unable to remember anything

Do you remember?

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Unemployed.

Unemployed from a paycheck
Still working to earn a living
but not earning enough to live
I've got hope buried somewhere in my heart
but not enough energy to move forward
Im praying I'll find something to keep me going
Until then I'll drink pop can after pop can
and sell them for few cents a piece.

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Disconnected

Disconnected from a world already disconnected

Angst from a generation forsaken by this administration

Broke from stress, dumped by promises

I suffer and I wait

I sit and sit to wait for something to happen

Jump up whenever temptation arises

But get pushed down.

Discouraged by life

Restless of seeing divas populate my screen

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I can't do this anymore

I think my writing has gone obsolete. Its so discouraging not being able to write. I have so much going on in my life that you would think I would be able to whip a poem out of my ass in just a few minutes. Hell, I was able to do that, but I can't. No combanation of words ever sound good when I type, when I write it in my journal, or when I blog it. I really want to start writing. I want my poetry buzz to come back. Thats all I want.

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blank mind

My Mind is blank
nothing to fill the empty hole
Alone with myself

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Spring moments.

There's snow
but it's melting outside
And here I am sitting
with a smile upon my face

As the temperature is up
My mood starts to go up as well

Spring is finally here
And as the warm appears
I suddenly begin to notice
that my bad moods disappear

Basketballs hit the pavement
in a rhythmic beat
And I can here the thump, thump, thump
of little pattering feet

Bikes whish and whoosh
around and around our street
And my brother and sister
shriek with delight
as Pup Pup runs around
and jumps on my sister
making her fall to the ground
She barks because finally has someone to play with
or is it because it's almost spring?

Sometimes Danny would come
riding on his scooter
Sometimes with one hand, sometimes none
He'd just show off as usual
Sometimes acting dumb

On a day like this
I could remember
Joseph chasing after James
Hanging out with them
made me feel like a kid again
I didn't have to remember all the wrongs in my life
A spring moment just took away all that pain

Laughter fills the air outside
but here I am
trying to write something good
While everyone is out on a day like this
I'm here... stuck inside

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A little girl tries to smile,
but her face is distorted
from being a drunkard's child.
Everyday he takes a dozen sips to relax.
And that's when the danger
reaches its max.
The girl loves her dad
and does what she can to stay strong
despite all the times he has acted bad.
Mommy left them since two years
and daddy tries to drink up all his pain
in order to hide his tears.
He loves her child
but he can't seem to stop his drinking spurges
from going wild
He promises one day he'll change his ways
so his little girl won't have to live in fear
every single day.
But no matter how much he tries to change
he reaches for a whisky
and things remain the same.
He hits her one hand at a time
blames her for mother leaving
She was forced to believed she had committed this crime
At night he thinks of what he did and starts to cry,
throws his hands up in the air,
And screams to god "why!"
The drinks take him into another world.
A place that becomes so dangerous
once it encounters his little girl.
Only god can keep this small family from falling apart.
His grace and glory
can strengthen their hearts.
But no matter how much HE tries to comfort their hurt,
daddy keeps on reaching for the drink and
everyone is back to how it was at first.

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Ode to Barbie

No one wants you.
Your perfect face
perfect boobs
perfect body
has no place in a place like ours.
Your world is plastic
ours is not.
Go and seduce Ken
with your shiny china made body,
because that's the only thing closest thing "to a man"
you'll ever get.
The real world doesn't want a
bitch like you.
Go tell Mattel to put you back
onto the shelf of non-existence
Can't you see whore?
Girls no longer need to look up to you
as they did before.
Your head has been de-attached
And dumped among the rubble
similar to your kind.
You no longer matter to the 21st century
Past thought you were pretty.
but present and future
will gawk at your awkward structure
because you're so perfect.
Don't you know, you @#$! bitch
that perfection is what makes us
spit in disgust?
You haven't been in our world.
Haven't tasted the realities with your painted lips.
So just hibernate
in your plastic box
and look out that plastic window
at the world you'll never get a chance to be a part of
a world in which you'll
never be accepted.

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STRONG

Anger, sadness, rage
devours my soul,
yet it is my friend who has to suffer
because of the ignorance of others.
Everyday she walks down the hallway
near our rusty, cubicle sized locker
with the same bright smile on her face.
Nothing can make her feel out of place
And nothing can make her ashamed.
She is proud of who she is.
Proud of her religion.
Proud of her culture.
Heck, she's even proud of wearing the scarf
And she doesn't mind not being able to wear
those halter tops
on warm sticky summer days.
Yet there are those few
that torment others like her
and they have not a clue,
of how much it hurts.
Like a knife stabbed in the heart.
Blood quickly penetrates the soul
I have heard that some
even pinch, poke and tease
others like my friend.
And what's so hard to believe
is how she keeps it all inside.
How does she manage to keep that same sunny smile
day after day?
How does she NOT let others
that have no morsel of respect
get to her?
How in the world does she do it?
Then it suddenly dawns on me.
It's her pride in who she is
that helps her build that high daring mountain
of pride and confidence
Those who chose to climb her strong rocky structure
will not survive
Muslim, and damn proud of it.
And who cares if others have a problem
with who she is
It's THEIR problem
She's as strong as brick
And can survive snowstorms, thunderstorms, and rainstorms
pouring with prejudice
If only I could be as strong
to fight what others think.

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Nature's bliss

I smell the grass
as I inhale the air.
Spin around uncontrollably
without a care.
I raise my wings
and fly high with the birds,
trying to absorb everything.
No worries no tears
No need to obsess
Or drown in my fears
I can let go here.
Shout as loud as I want
from the hassles not so near.
Just transport me away.
In nature's bliss
forever will I stay

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Well, I'm writing yet another blog. I've only been blogging for a few days and I'm already addicted. Its really helped me get into the writing process. I used to write a lot in high school, a WHOLE lot of poetry. My goal for this blog is too keep on writing. Hopefully I'll get over this writer's block.

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