Lola

I love Lola. Lola is my dearest close friend who I miss a lot right now. Lola is the reason I haven't posted in weeks, because she is the only one who reads this, so I figured it would be a waste of time to post a bunch while she was away. Lola should be home soon, with her brother, and our friend. I miss them all. But most of all, I miss Lola.

My love and wistfulness for Lola, has inspired this blog post. Actually, I've been wanting to write this for a few days now, but I restrained myself, thinking it was just a little bit creepy. However, I can't take it anymore and this is the only way I can think to cope with the fact that she is away from me and I can't talk to her about the things on my mind and closest to my heart. Moreover, she is not here to give me my morning rant about what aggravates her today, the drug qualities found in random foods, and how her family has done her wrong. Which is equally disappointing because I have become quite fond of those rants.

So I hope that when Lola sees this, she can interpret it as a tribute of love and longing, not creepiness.

I'm not even entirely sure Lola will see this, because I'm not sure if Lola is going to keep blogging when she comes home. I know I am on the verge of creating a new blog which will be completely different from this one, in style and content. But as for Lola's plans, I am not sure. I miss you Lola. Please come home.

Love, Flower.

Love

Love... is a relative feeling. Love builds up, and can just as easily exist between one set of people as the next... it doesn't belong to a set of requirements. Only that person knows if they love or not, and it doesn't have to be mutual. It is just one of those things that means you have feelings for that person, beyond any other feelings you've ever had before. And I guess I started out with the idea of romantic affection, but this applies to other kinds too. Like a mother who experiences the new rush of love for her baby, and the whole new emotional aspect that they were not aware of until they were a parent. It's like the longer you exist, all the different causes of love have more to live up to. More competition. Which means when you're older, your senses of love will be much stronger and more aware and experienced and whatnot, than it was when you were younger. However, it does not make love beforehand, any less.

Rhymes

Let go of the words, there's no going back. don't try and find reason, because the reason is dead. And when all that you can remember has lost it's meaning, get rid of those memories too, and then you are free. This is not an epiphany this is simply a chant, used to prevent a hopeless rant. This isn't poetry this is a part of me that bleeds. Rhymes just seem to appear, making me nervous about posting here. I could go on forever with this perpetual doubt, others guessing what this is about. But I tell you you're wrong, this could mean anything, fit any situation with the right reasoning. Today is the day that I'm over the hill, after bridges crossed, I have met my will. I used to remember to an overextent, spacing out on the world, didn't know what people meant. Walking down broadway and 158th I reached a point of neither love or hate. Trying to remember how it felt, things that once made my heart and mind melt. Realizing these were my feelings no more, I felt my inner existance begin to soar. For this is the freedom, the start of my new life, seems it's all going by, in about three-week-sized bites.

Smile

A smile is your one defense between YOU and THEM. When the world is crashing down, a deep breath and a smile is gonna save you. And nothing else! Hiding makes you disappear, denial makes you stupid, crying makes you look like crap, and then you have the issue of how to stop. Talking may land you saying stuff you really wish you hadn't said, and sitting not doing anything at all is never going to work either.
But I never realized how equally difficult it is to smile through a dead feeling inside. I never realized how much energy and self-pursuasion it takes, to make yourself care about things you don't and say things you wouldn't say, and to artificially pick yourself up, put yourself back on your feet, until you're ready to walk again. Those moments of wandering around, like you've just been born... I WAS just born and I'm ready to deal with the consequences. Breathe deep flower. And smile. Because if you can, then you've created the barrier between... THEM and YOU. A barrier you can see through, but none of them can. Smile. Smile. Smile. It hurts, no? Just smile.

Rut

Every day, Ms. M glares at us and tells us to go downstairs. We smile at her because we know this is our routine greeting, at 12:40pm. So we go down and we go to the pizza place, our pizza place, where we live. And the little mexican guys know that she gets a plain slice, and to skip over us, 'cause we're with her. We grab our seats at the booth, the two of us on one side, her on the other. To even switch places would be too daring. We have the usual conversation, the usual raiding of each other's food, the usual taunting of the the newbies, and with our memorable moment of brillant humor and friendship, the days go on the same. The pizza place is like our home to crash at, and the Convinience Store Not A Deli is our best friend. We wander in there, to debate over what kind of candy we want that day, and how much is too much, and how to win a smile from the indian guys at the counter. And after countless crunch bars and 5 cent mints, we reach our final destination of the benches outside the school, where we three pounce, trying to win a spot in the desired middle. One of our beautiful quirks is our obession with being in the middle. So we sit, with our other friends, with whom we meet up with at this spot. We hug and dance and enjoy our little routine, until one-thirty when the routine is played out.

Thus, we are stuck in a rut. I see from where they come saying this, we have a way of life that we stick to... daily, and while it is comforting, and enjoyable, after a while, you realize, this happens every day. Why does it happen every day? Why doesn't something different happen? Well now, apparently, I have pulled us out of a rut. Apparently, I am the driving force, my life which happened before my eyes, has become this rope to pull us out of the norm, and into a more unexplainable, unusual place, because of something that none of us saw coming. Out of the rut my friends. Except, I don't even care about the rut anymore. Let the run be, to catch me when I fall. And let my life live, because I love it.

November

There are wet leaves sticking to the ground, and trying to kick them would be pointless. Fortunetly, kicking leaves, hoping that one will come along with you, for a foot or two, is a fairly low key pastime. Because, in November, the gray sky has a beauty to it. When time stops and even though the wind is rushing, it gives a certain kind of comfort, like a hug. And wandering under the canopy of clouds is like being safe under a blanket. Somehow thoughts never stop running, and even the murky waters of a gutter puddle, crowned by brown foliage, reflects the tiger striped sky in a way that seems like a miracle.

When you step out onto a clear block of concrete, there is a certain amount of truth that is not necissarily depressing, but real. Fog is clarity to me when there is no other way to look around. Just keep going down the street, and go towards that green light, because that green light is the only thing you've got left, and even when it turns red, take the risk. So why is November so wonderful? Because my head is spinning and I can't think about anything in the right way and the only way that I can soothe my remorse is to not lash out. Kick November leaves instead.

You

You make me cry.

When I just think about your existance

When I hear your words and

know that you're alive.

You confuse me.

You make me angry

And I will hate you,

until I realize,

I have no reason to.

Cuz

You make me happy.

I'll float

You'll see

I'll hide if I can

But you know I can't.

You make the air cold.

I'm loosing it right now

Don't want another winter

Without....

Gyro

I live for the man on 57th and 8th. I live for his ripped up 'gyro' hat. I live for his chicken and spices and pita bread. I live for waiting at the corner for the light, and inhaling as much as I can of the beautiful smell. I live for sunsets on Tuesdays and Fridays when there is just enought light to point him out and smell the food before he leaves. With his partner, they close the metal stand, unlock the wheels, and run around, throwing all their weight to one side, and then launching into the evening traffic, like undocking a ship. I live for the glint of his gyro stand in the dying sunlight. And for the fact that he'll be back tomorrow.

Silent

Of all things to say, this is one of them, that I probably should. I usually do. But with so many problems concerning this one subject, who can i tell? I can only tell the people who don't care, or who won't get involved. Or have the sweet treasure of not having to. Benificiary One: He is of good and general approval including mine. Problem Ten Thousand: What if he knows or i cant do anything about it and its too good for me or if she finds out then she will be mad even though it has little to do with her it has a lot to do with her always because it's her personality and then my dear amica, she does not deserve for me to do this even though it wasn't my choice and what if that alone brings this all down?

Sorry about that. Love has returned to the Mounatin Spirit. Or Petrified Flower. However you address me online.

Romance

This is actually a true story and not a random fiction on the spot. I watch it happen every Saturday. There is a girl in a black costume living a sheltered life around everyone and special, but too special to live. A girl of innocence, the angelic image, a trapped seventeen year old. What teenager like that wants to be so protected so out of touch, so naive? The perfect person is isolated though so glorious, but see, there is excitement for her. Someone has come from far away, literally the Prince to dance with. This is the moment, the only chance, contained emotion is bursting out. The spectators say, 'oh, what a wonderful actress' but can you see what is really going on? This is her life! Her little teen romance, and it's all hidden by the stage. Seduction, love, the game, the victory, what every other seventeen year old has at excess. Poor deprived soul. It's not acting. She's attracted to him and she's trying to get him because this is all she has to play at. But look. He's bored. She's just another girl he's hired to dance with. 

Fluff

I want to throw daggers into your soul

And be the one there to console

I want to tear you apart

Let you into my heart

Does it make much sense? 

Oh it makes so much sense!

I want you as dead and alive as I am

I do and don't want a boyfriend

I want to soak in the pools of silly love

Are you enough?

I want a sense of reality

But that touch that sets one free

I'll hate you today

Beg you look at me

Does it make much sense?

Oh it makes so much sense!

I want you as dead and alive as I am

I do and don't want a boyfriend

I want to soak in the pools of silly love

Are you enough?

There are no more words for this

 Years and dynamics have left me speechless

I was so afraid

So it had to be this way

I want you as dead and alive as I am

I do and don't want a boyfriend

I want so soak in the pools of silly love

Are you enough?

So I'll keep hating you

Cuz I'll be loving you

I guess thats it....

Valentines

Is young love really as crackpot as we are taught to make it out to be? Or isn't that what we tell the broken hearts on valentine's day and it spread around...

Young love... as in none of us have a diploma in anything? At our age it is said that we shouldn't waste our youth and our time and etc on meaningless relationships that will just end in nothing but disappointment. I strongly disagree with that statement and am now firmly convinced that notion was created specifically for comforting broken 13 year old hearts.

Young love is like everything else in life is a lesson for future use. Why do we go to math? Well... thats not a good example.... why do we learn how to read? Because we use it in later life. Why do lion cubs fight with each other? To practice fighting for the real world. Which is how I look at little relationships that go nowhere and die early. Practice. I bet those lion cubs have a hell of a lot of fun rolling on top of each other! So why is it so awful and stupid we have little love experiments? It prepares us for the world. Obviously fighting your little brother isn't the same as fighting the animal about to eat you... but you get the idea.

Therefore, I deem teenage love-experiments acceptable, understandable and enjoyable.

Happy Valentines Day.

Solstice

Yes, we celebrated the solstice last night. We all sat together talking about our days, and then talking about what has happened to us in the last year, and what we were thinking of right now. We discussed the fact that it was the longest night of the year, that the sky was dark for the most time out of any other time in the year. That after this turning point, winter would begin, and the process of the days getting longer would begin. We went to our altar where we had candles and incense, and we lit and burned them. We turned out all the lights and sat together and prayed. It was silent, and dark. All you saw was the two little flames on the altar quivering. We passed around the singing bowl, tapped it so you heard a bell, that repeated steadily like a heartbeat. 

When this moment was over, we got up and began to talk. We talked about the elements, fire, water, earth and air, and how they made up everything in life. I began to drum, softly and consistently, I drummed for a long time. Then my father had his turn drumming to fill the air with wonderfulness. We waved the incense around and then took deep, calming breaths. At midnight we all came together and I drummed as long and as fast as I could, keeping the energy rising, and then it fell again and we sat on the floor, looking at the candles, still burning. I prayed to The Earth and Sky and Elements and Stars, and I was sitting on my living room floor, watching the flame...

Today

Today I saw something truly beautiful. Yes, once again in the land of Anti-Nature it snowed. I was in my third period class, when we looked out the window, we saw soft white powder falling from the gray-white sky. Peering over the edge of the window, it was discovered that there was a thin layer of whiteness resting upon the filthy streets. There was much squealing; jumping up and down. In the hallways, boys were screaming at the roof through windows thrown open, and clapping: "It's snowin'!" Half past noon, we ran out into the frigid air that felt so good, and kicked it all around. We scooped it up into our gloves, and packed it into lopsided, sphere-resembling forms, which we had pleasure in throwing at trees and each others' ribs. Our boots and shoes squashed slush, and heels dug into the ice. Crossing the street we waded through puddles consisting of things most would not like to hear described. But we were happy. Upon cars, we carved out with our fingers our own names, love, and peace signs. I greeted a lovely snowman who waved his leaf arm at me. I also constructed a snow form the size of a grapefruit. I loved him. After creating a snow angel, I laid my grapefruit snowball by a tree to face his fate. But it was a beautiful day.