forty seven

carpe diem!
he opened his eyes as the words shattered into little pieces all over his mind. while wondering if his dreams were actually real life (or vice-versa), he pulled on some jeans. his mom's voice could be heard in the next room coaxing his little sister out of bed. before he headed downstairs, he glanced at the mirror and nodded quickly. as he turned the hallway corner, he was faced with his little sister.
she was dressed in white.
he pointed to the banner in her hand, "what do you have, Claudia?"
it made him uneasy to see his buoyant little sister stand so very still. she didn't speak as she stretched her arms apart. as the banner was pulled tight, the words on it came into view.
carpe diem! 
it was painted on in eight-year-old brushstrokes.
he shivered a little as he walked past her and mumbled, "that's cool, sis."
his denim jacket lay on the banister. he put it on and pushed his hands into the pockets. something crumpled in his fingers. he pulled it out and smoothed it on the table as he ate his breakfast. it seemed to be a candy wrapper covered in vibrant designs. he strained his eyes to read the tiny print on the label.
carpe diem!
he said it out loud to himself many times. the first, "carpe diem." was stated in an apathetic tone. then next "carpe diem?" was asked in a bewildered way. the final, "carpe diem!" was not said but growled. he suspected his mom was pulling some sort of a joke. she had been telling him to get a life ever since his dad had died.
regardless of it being a joke or not, he wasn't laughing. he began to search for his mom to ask her what all of this was about and tell her he does have a life and so on. but she wasn't around. he grabbed his backpack full of books he never opened and walked outside.
his eyes flicked to his dad's car in the garage.
his dad had known very little of him. he had spent half of his life striving to preform, but his dad never noticed. then his dad died, so he stopped trying.
all these thoughts and disappointments were sprinting through his head as he walked to the bus stop. a car screeched to a halt so as to avoid hitting him. the window rolled down as the driver, his neighbor Lucas, began yelling. he flinched and expected a flood of explétives. but instead all that came out of Lucas's mouth was a loud and angry,
carpe diem!      
his eyes grew wide. this was too much.
"no!" he yelled back. then everything came. he yelled about how there was no point to everything. and how everyone expects too much of him for him to succeed, so why not just fail? he yelled about missing his dad. he yelled about hating his mom for no reason. he yelled about Claudia crying sometimes when he got angry.
all the time, Lucas the driver continued to repeat,
carpe diem!
it became said gentler and gentler until it was a comforting whisper.
by now tears were escaping his brown eyes.
the and Lucas the driver didn't see the car that was swiftly approaching.
there was a collision and an explosion.
carpe diem!
he opened his eyes as the words shattered into little pieces all over his mind. while wondering if his dreams were actually real life (or vice-versa), he pulled on some jeans.

*a note about the 52 weeks project: it has come to my attention that there are more than 5 weeks left in the year (not many, but i've still miscounted). i mean, i'll write til the end of the year, that's not the problem. the problem is how confusing it will be to see something labeled "fifty-three."
haha anyway, thanks for sticking with me for this long. we're almost done!

carpe diem.

let's not talk about things that we can break

somethings i've learned lately:

-love is inseparably joined with life. one cannot exist without the other. that's why humans are so unique. we naturally crave and destroy both life and love. crazy right?
-carpe diem. 'nough said.
-sleep becomes something that's a blessing and a curse. i have slept less this semester than ever before.
-you are obviously your harshest critic. cut yourself some slack. it's pretty much beautiful feeling. i have been less hard on myself about grades this semester than ever before and i love it. i am still excelling, but i'm less stressed out about it.
-life is a sucession of present realities. life is always now. alwaysalwaysalways
-there's a difference between being lonely, isolated, and independent. the line between all three is tiny.
-guitar's by far the most comforting instrument ever. to listen to. to play. to look at. to hold.
-the future is always going to be unknown. that's an old truth. but seriously, how often do you find yourself planning?
-night showers are the best way to de-stress before bed ever. that and hot oatmeal. oh the weird rituals you pick up when a student.
-courtney marie andrews is a musical goddess. i knew that already. you probably knew that already. but you know, you can kind of never stop realizing.

okay that's all.

title from this incredible song that you should listen to right now. go ahead and click this sentence. do it. 

I don't want to do color theory. part one.

this story is about a little girl who didn't know why the sun rose up in the mornings.
one day, as she ate her oatmeal with brown sugar, she looked out the window and smiled at that the light striding through it.
this girl,
-we'll call her lula-
so lula climbed off of her tall chair and stepped towards the light.
she cupped her little hands and whispered "why do you shine so? everyday, you're here to say hello. why?"
the light,
-because of course sunlight cannot talk-
didn't answer.
instead he tugged playfully at lula's curls.
lula was very dejected after this very one-sided conversation, so she decided to go for a walk.
while walking down her little street, she saw the sunlight hiding behind a tree.
lula spoke to the light again.
but this time
-instead of whispering-
she spoke in her "outside voice"
-that's what her mother called it-
saying, "hello, good sir, can I ask you why you wake up so early?"
again the light didn't reply.
instead he tucked himself underneath a cloud and pretended to disappear.

to be continued....


i guess i'll work on those retinal paintings now.

litte fern.

i really like my very best friends.
i think i've written about that a lot...but it's true. i appreciate that the people that i love most are brilliantly creative and intelligent individuals.
i really like that part of my itunes library is music recorded by my dear ones.
i really like that some of my favorite authors and lyricists are people that i know inside out.
i really like that a few of my biggest inspirations for art, love, and life are those that i'm closest to.

all that being said, it's sometimes stifling to be so far from those friends. i feel like somehow our lives are just missing eachother.
however, through the music, art, writings...etc, they are apart of my life here.

how incredible is that.
sometimes it's just good to express thanks.

p.s. i know this has nothing to do with ferns. i was looking at the little fern on my desk when i began writing this.

forty six

two little lovers

with a rose-wreath around their shoulders
holding them together
so that when they grow older
they won't be able to part
because the little thorns will prick their little arms

and save their two little hearts.

a year ago today

a year ago today,
I realized that my life is a gift to me.
a gift that I have no right to destroy.

so

if you don't know it already,
you're incredible. you were created the way you are on purpose. you're not alone, and you never were, and you never will be. life's never easy, but that's the fun of it. you are being challenged so you can grow even more beautiful than you are.

(and trust me, you are already very stunning)

I love you.

live on, friends.

journal entry/sometimes

October 30th
sometimes I feel so alive I could be dead.

like some how the blood coursing through me is actually only saltwater and I’m actually some weirdly shaped wave that’s just waiting to crash and wash over some dirty spot on the sidewalk at school.
sometimes I feel so alone that I’m claustrophobic. 

like the air around me is actually full of tons of people waiting until to hurt me or to be hurt because that’s all humans can honestly do to eachother.

sometimes I feel so young that I grow old.

like somehow I am burdened and aged by the fact I know and have lived so much less than I want.
sometimes I feel so cold that I’m burning.

like the rain is actually little bits of fire spreading on my skin and setting flame to the old body, just leaving the new, tender skin of my real self.
sometimes sometimes sometimes.
more like all the time.

all the time I feel dead, claustrophobic, old, and burning.

like somehow I’m going to be fine because I’m just as much of a mess as everyone I know.

that’s all. 

the end.