smoke and water on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/31518582
I love the cool air caressing my face.
I love the wind whipping my hair in blonde ripples-
like a golden wave.
I love the leaves dancing to the ground,
twirling this way and that,
in colors of
The colors crunch under my feet.
How could I ignore the crisp changes of autumn?
Complaining. Whining. Hating. Pining.
Falling. Trying. Failing. Crying.
Life pulls us down the hole.
Everyone strives not to drown.
Why should one get back up?
Why would you stay down?
I started my JUNIOR year today and I’m feeling super positive for the year! Getting up early felt foreign. I was sleep walking so I couldn’t be upset about it.
Morning traffic was the worst ever! But it being the first day I wasn’t anxious about being late, because they don’t count tardies!
Homeroom was great because I was greeted by all my lovelies :)
First period is Spanish, which I like, and it’s the same teacher from last year whom I love.
Second period Environmental Science is the only class I don’t have a bunch of good friends in because, being that it isn’t an advanced class, some troublesome kids are in it… and the teacher claims to have grown up in “the hood” and got egged by upperclassmen as a freshman in high school. So those were some interesting stories. I’m giving it a chance!
Third period I have the same teacher I did last year for AP English. It’s going to be a rough class. She’s a rough teacher. It’s a rough course. Yikes!
Fourth period I have a very talkative DE American History teacher from Missouri. I’m nervous about her tests, which will be completely essay! And because it’s really a college class, there’s no limit on the class size and we’re currently quite expansive.
Fifth is my spectacular vocal ensemble class that I happen to be the president of ;) We were a family last year, but now we’re much larger and crazier, but hopefully we can keep our loving vibe!
Sixth I have math with an older bald gentleman who told us all about his ancestry! I’m kind of thinking it’s going to be slightly boring in there…we’ll see.
I am psyched to have first lunch this year; I cannot tell you how it made my day. Especially because my Missourian history teacher doesn’t allow food in her class when fourth period is the time my tummy grumbles!
So it was an all around good day which consisted of a crazy morning, swarms of lost freshmen, and a lunch cut short. Obviously the best part of the day was seeing all my friends that I didn’t even realized I missed so much <3
There’s something freeing about being anonymous. I can do whatever I want because it will not be remembered. It will be as if it never happened. It’s like releasing all the tension and chucking it through the window with all my might and then turning back to see a perfectly pristine window without a crack.
Anonymity makes people brave. They are no longer themselves, yet they are the truest version of themselves they have ever met. Stripped to the core. Exposed because they expose themselves without hesitation. They hide nothing because it will never be found.
Anonymous people are the scariest there are because they are unrestrained. However their freedom binds them. It controls them by allowing any and everything. They lose themselves. They lose control.
It’s the one thing no one shows anybody else. There are those things- dark, distorted, overbearing shadows that are always looming in the back of the closet. It’s the filthy grime in the deepest pit of the soul. It prickles the neck, teases the spine, plays with the mind, and weighs on the heart. They trickle into the subconscious and dance in nightmares. They eat us alive from the inside out.
They are secrets.
Secrets of the past. Secrets of desires. Secrets of thoughts. Secrets of intentions.
They haunt us.
How to be rid of them? They are written down- documented in forever ink. They are listed in the little black book. Everybody has one, but nobody has seen any one but their own. It’s the worst fear. This little book is guarded with one’s life. This little book causes paranoia. This little book is always close to the heart, corrupting the insides. This little book is heavy. This little book inflicts death.
They can’t be cleaned out?
Yes. Yes, they can.
There is one who has already cleaned them. They’re already gone- forgotten. Still, little black books are carried around only reminding of what once was. And He who washed them away reads these books openly in confusion. Read His book. His big, white, book of life. The names written inside are written with forever ink.
Be wild and free like a stallion. Don’t hold back. Be strong.