Fourteen

And no joke, I was sitting there with my calendar open, years flashing by in my head. With my backpack open on my lap, squished into the corner seat of the subway, I opened the vinyl cover of the set of papers that mapped out a year of my middle school life. Staring at the pages, I flipped through, month to month, looking, as I realized that soon it would be June, and another summer, another transition, and half of us would already be fourteen.

Remember back when we were all in fifth grade and turning eleven was a big deal? When being fourteen was one of those far off places of such maturity? Being all grown up and sophisticated with big issues and life that kept going in a dramatic line of constant excitement. Eleven was big enough for us, and we owned every bit of knowledge above those who were still stuck in fourth grade. Slowly we would creep up to be teenagers, but thirteen didn't count 'cause you would still be in middle school, and fourteen would be a teenager. While we could barely feel it, those mythological times were dawning upon us with every Friday afternoon, until we filled those silhouettes.

Soon we would be celebrating sweet sixteens and normals sixteens, and we would feel like kids, but be in the shoes of adults. If we can go from being 10 to 14 without too much changing beyond a bra and a few inches, then how long does it take for us to be eighteen? We would be standing together, remembering when we were little kids. Hopefully.

The best part is, I had these deep revelations about ten years flying by, just by riding home with my planner open.

Blog

I've been thinking. That after all this time of writing these posts about my latest discovery, or venting about my latest emotion, or the poetry that I wrote in my school notebooks... I've been thinking about where this is going. I've been running this blog for the past year and a half, and next year I'll be off to high school. I'll be around all different people, a whole new place, a whole new dynamic, and I won't be the twelve year old that started this blog. So this is my proposition: I've considered running this blog until either graduation, or until the end of the summer. I'll keep going the way I've been going, and then when I end it, I'll start a new one. The format would be more of a journal type thing, except I wouldn't keep it like I keep my written one. It would just highlight certain moments of my day, and I'd tell it almost like an excerpt from a book. I also thought that it would be a good way to let the people I won't be seeing as much anymore, know about what's going on in my life. I'm also kind of bored of the way I write here. In conclusion; I feel I will need to start an entirely new blog soon, for my own peace of mind, and for my friends. But what do you think?

Art

This is a response to a post by The Wizardress, which was at first a comment, but then it got too long and I figured it should be a post. In order to understand my post, you're probably going to have to read hers.

_________________________________________________________

Art becomes shared and appreciated when people can relate to it - which I think is what you just said. I like art more than nature, and I guess we're talking about human made art because I dont understand why nature cant be art. even if it happened without any prompting, it still causes emotion for people and people see beauty and emotion in it, as they might a painting or sculpture, etc. Those two aspects FOR ME, define art.

And what's wrong with seeing multiple ways to get inside someone's mind? Tying into what i said at the beginning, relating to people makes people feel better, as does the creation itself. I think that art that does not convey emotion in a way that people can read it, is just one-ended art. Because if it has ANY emotional value, the artist can feel it and use it. That's much different than tissues.

Unsafety

A sense of unsafety

My own words on the attack

After a virtual sigh

Virtual silence.

These minds are screaming you see

Screaming in non verbal ways

These minds are wondering

Misunderstanding

As of that moment I was standing in space

Caught enegry dancing

But don't say a word

Cuz you say one more thing

And the energy explodes

Gone from it's encasement

Like three satisfying words

Suffocating in every way

A misty whirlwind in the middle of nowhere

And no where left to go

No more breathing now

Cling to every word

Until the storm abruptly stops

With one final message

Our ghost

Repeated

I was just trying to write how I felt in my journal, in normal paragraph form. Then this slipped out. (this is from a few weeks ago)

_________________________________________________

And why does my life feel like the same thing

Repeated year to year

The only thing changing is the characters

But the lessons are the same

Cause I have the same feelings

And I never learn.

I look back at old journals

That tell of a time

So long before ours

Before simplicity was devoured

And while the setting was so vastly different -

Essentially

It was the same.

So what am I doing here but walking in circles

Scratching with pencils and searching for words

To find a phrase and complete a poem

So I can turn the page

Think about -

And go on.

Nonspecific

It would suck to wake up one day and find out that some one other than Lola has been reading this blog for the past year. Oh, and Melli and The Wizardress too. It would seriously mess with my life, to find out that I've been screaming all this s***, thinking I was releasing stress into the open air and with those that I love. I'm not even entirely sure how I'd react if that happened, I guess it would depend who. I just have this horrible feeling that some one's been checking up on my emotional state and I have no clue about it. That's what I get for putting this on the Internet! But since when is paranoia a new thing for me? Shoot, I just missed 11:11. I wish on every 11:11, just so you know. It's one of those things I believe in. Sorta. Kinda. Hey! So this is actually how I think, and talk, when I'm not being all official on my blog. My blog is just about the last place where I use correct spelling and grammar and etc. And I also usually use big words and concepts, which are actually what I think about... it just sounds really official? I guess? I can't come up with the right word...

So. Now that I'm almost done with this post, I need to give it a title. It's kind of random. But that's not the right word for it. Thank Spirit for thesaurus. Nonspecific. This post is nonspecific. But I find it so interesting that I'm not making a big deal about the future, the past, regret, love or adolescence, that I'm actually going to publish this!

Happy

This is my attempt at writing a post when I'm happy. My hair is flying out of a ponytail, I have one of my favorite outfits on, blasting music, clapping and dancing in a way that no one has ever seen me dance. Ever. I'm talking to people and I'm relishing in the fact that everything went my way today. That just everything about the world looks so perfect and going for me, that I can't even believe it's happening. And the chain of events that are so blissful, send me on a high that has me looking to the sky unable to breathe. Even something that has been known to bring me to my knees crying, is simply invisible at this moment, and I'm convinced it has to do with the sunlight streaming, and the gentle wind. I can't tell you much else about what this feels like, or anything going through my mind, because everything in is a heated whirlwind. So this, relating to my earlier post, is what I'm like when I'm happy. I don't care if the neighbors bother me 'cause the music is on blast, and I'm stomping my feet. What I'll do, is I will go out on that fire escape, and I will shout until they can hear me down in Harlem and up in Inwood cause I am SO DAMN HAPPY.