Conversation With a Guidance Counselor

These rules I've never understood
But if I must obey I will
I want to live in a place
That I can call my own
Below the rat race
With a nice windowsill
That has a spectacular view
Which I deem beautiful
(And I would deem any view beautiful)
But without it I would suffocate
My extended hand ignites my light
So please allow yourself to create
A free form future

A Moment to Appreciate Shoes

A thought occurred to me a few nights ago while sitting on the beach.  Sand was surrounding me, of course, and was finding its way into my black high top, Chuck Taylor Converses. 

Unlike most people, however, I did not see the sand as a pest or nuisance.  Instead, I was glad to feel it in my shoe, saw it as a souvenir of sorts.  Because to me, shoes are the objects that guide us everywhere, and are with us every step of the way...literally.

That's why to me, getting something on my shoes is almost a mark of honor.

Once, I spontaneously decided to go for a swim in the ocean, and I made sure I let my shoes get a bit wet with the salt water before I took them off.  It was simply so that I could know that they had experienced such an event.  And even after they dry, and any signs that the water was there has faded away, I will still know that they were dipped in the water.

Recently, one pair of my shoes walked 20 miles during Boston's Walk for Hunger.  When the event was over, the normally black shoes were practically brown with all of the dirt and residue.  Most people would be disappointed.  I was ecstatic.  That was my favorite keepsake from the day.

I suppose the reason that I appreciate the shoes so much is because looking at everything that my shoes have done gives me a new perspective on what I have done.  Being from a small town, it feels like nothing I have done is, or could ever be, spectacular.  But when put in a different context, my accomplishments seem different: 

• This one pair of shoes survived four years of high school, and a full year of college. 
• This pair of shoes walked 20 miles for charity. 
• This pair of shoes worked eight hours after school. 
• This pair worked almost 40 hours over the summer, and hung out with friends afterwords. 
• This pair of shoes jumped on and off a carousel a countless amount of times during a summer job.

None of those things are a huge deal, but its the little things in life that should make us feel good about ourselves.  Maybe looking at our accomplishments from a different perspective is what we all need.  Maybe we should all appreciate our shoes more, and in turn appreciate ourselves more.

Numb

A mind of thuds
And beats of stone
With battle grounds
Now fields of gray
Stretching forever
Producing lined pages
Begging for scribbles
Searching for sparks
Or any hiding colors
Among the wreckage
Of neither this or that

An Honest Mothers Day

It was the least
I could do
To spare you
The truth
So I bought you
A card with
Kind words and
Kind lies
Comprised
Of black ink
Like that which
Is filling
My lungs
As you read

Sun On My Face

No longer a sharp scoff
Or a harsh boundary
Revealing the blackness
Sunlight is now an ocean
Cleansing my jungle rot

You Should Feel Very Lucky

A one year reflection
Except for one crucial
Point of interest
Because iodine in excess
Produces purple smiles
Revealing a one year crack
That it was dyed
Yet still it exists
Much lighter than before
Now with rays and warmth
Promising genuine shine
In its cold purple contrast
So celebrate the smile
Instead of condemning
The reason for the color

Maroon

No fine lines
Of definition
Just basic colors
Confusing each other
And fusing together
To define me

Red passion tempting
Purple depth
Quick temper tempting
Endless caring
Rightful suspicion tempting
Naive love

Shades on a spectrum
And Crayola crayons
Meeting
Casual conversation 
And alarm clocks



(Any feedback on this poem in particular would be most appreciated.)

2010

Surroundings tinted
Maybe just for me
No night or day
Charred routine repeat
Yes, the Mayans lied
But disillusions right
Faces closer to herded cattle
Eyes like diamonds above Seattle

(This is the third and final pre-posted poem.)

Cohesion

The flood stole
Their homes and hearts
Yet still they drank
Worlds apart
But still the same
Kill and save
In everything


(This is another poem that was already posted, but was reposted simply because I like it.)

5 Random Facts

So I was just tagged by my friend and roommate Jenna to do a 5 Random Facts post. Hmmmm. Maybe this will be interesting...

1.  I am currently finishing up my first year of college, and its been an interesting experience to say the least.  Its proven to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm an introvert and that I prefer to hang out with a small group of close friends. I enjoyed living on campus for the most part, although sometimes I craved more quiet time. I felt like I could never fully be myself while in my dorm.

2.  As far as writing poetry goes, I don't try to do anything.  It simply makes me feel better and keeps me occupied. Even if my poems turn out poorly, even if nobody else in the world likes them, I enjoy writing them, and I find the process therapeutic.

3.  I collect Living Dead Dolls.  They are Barbie Doll-like figures with a strange gothic twist. Most people don't like them, but they make me very happy. I'm not a serious collector, though. If I had a thousand dollars to burn maybe I would be, but for the time being I can wait. If you want to learn more about them, because your still baffled, you can read a really cool article here.

4.  I tend to wear a lot of black - in fact, its the only color I wear. But its not my only favorite color. I also love orange and deep purple.

5.  Something that can always make me smile is the show Futurama. It doesn't matter how long its been cancelled (and its coming back!) the same episodes make me laugh even after the 500th time. It is by far the cleverest show ever created, and Matt Groening deserves a medal for making something so nerdtastic.

....so those are 5 random things about me.

No Art

Feelings float.
Everything encased.
There is no art -
no one has heart
only explosions losing face


(This poem had already been posted but its one of my favorites so I wanted to put it up again)

Samara and Samantha

Two girls staring
Resting places in view
Perpetually watching
The same scene with
Eyes of cold comfort

The first dies with a bag
Without screams
Wordless
No fight left
Cursed at the bottom forever

The other with an arm extended
Without screams
Politeness
Only cowardice
Linked at the bottom forever

Both find the same solace
Differing only in extremes

Stick With The Originals

With modern technology getting more and more advanced each day, it seems logical that special effects in movies are becoming better and better.  But with this increase in technology has come a decrease in imagination.  Thats why very few new movies have been coming out lately - not really.  Most have been remakes, spin-offs of old television shows, or on screen interpretations of books (or even video games).

At first glance, it seems like a great idea.  By that logic, you coul just take a movie from the golden age of film that required tons of special effects and simply do it again.  There you go!  A better movie.  But its just not that simple.

A classic is given that title for a reason. A classic deserves to be preserved - not butchered at the box office with new lame CGI effects.  The old horror films may not have had beleiveable effects - but they were the originals.  They had original characters and original storylines that would resonate in your mind.

Now with more realistic looking blood, costuming, and effects, what have we gotten?  Lower ratings.  The new Nightmare On Elmstreet recieved a 15% rotten rating on rottentomatoes.com, while the original movie released in 1984 (poorly done effects and all) recieved a 95%.  In short, they killed something that was nearly flawless in the first place.

Tons of other movies are already scheduled for the same fate.  Of particular interest to me is The Neverending Story.  The company remaking it is still in the air, and it can be read about here.  I'm afraid that the spirit of the film will be lost.  The entire point of the movie is to get kids to read and appreciate their imaginations.  Why would they if they have everything painted out for them on the screen?

Maybe I'm just overreacting, but it seems to me that we are heading towards a society that does not appreciate the originals or anything anymore.  Next thing you know we will be remaking Rebel Without A Cause by recasting James Dean or releasing a different version of the Wizard of Oz.  It seems to me that some things should just stay as the original and not be redone. We need to appreciate the things we already have and concentrate on their original greatness and not try to tweak them.

May Cause An Inner Sense of Restlessness

Twenty triggers
Productive thoughts
Following other doomed
Lukewarm destined shots
Feet burn on pavement
Move so blisters stop
Brilliant nonsense
Never enough

My Loner Weekend

Right now, I'm alone in my dorm room, procrastinating on an assignment I should be doing.  Theres not a ton of people here on campus, most have gone home with their friends and families, but the ones who have stayed are out partying. I am not one of them. Not because I feel there is anything wrong with a few drinks shared between friends, but because I enjoy the time I spend by myself. If anything, I need the time to recharge. I've come to accept that its possible that I'll never be anything more than the definition of an introvert.

Being by myself has always given me an odd sense of security. I've heard many people talk about wanting to rip their hair out with boredom and annoyance when they are alone. I, on the other hand, cherish the time. It gives me a chance to get in touch with my interests again. Alone time is the only time that I can do things like listen to the entire Rubber Soul album by The Beatles from start to finish and take in every beat, or watch Girl, Interrupted for the thousandth time. It seems like I, myself, am the only reasonable company for such activities.

When writing a paper about when I feel most like myself, I said when I am alone. This is not to say that I don't enjoy being around people, but that I never truly feel like the real Samantha unless I am in complete solitude. So far, only writers and poets have been able to confirm these feelings. Maybe I'm misreading their messages. Maybe I'm just a hermit.

Yet somehow I sense that this feeling of atachment to detachment, of loving to be alone, is perfectly okay. Sure, its never been socially acceptable - I'll probably always carry the reputation as "that weird kid" - but being accepted by the mainstream isn't my main concern. I'm sure that If they knew how many thoughts carried in my head they would be jealous (or relieved).

Regardless of all this loner nonsense, I'm having a slow, uneventful, reflective weekend - and I feel perfectly fine about it.

Car Ride

close the door
treading water

serene smiles

singing tires

cool breeze

speed increase

choking winds

can’t breathe

serenity ends

their smiles stay

blazing sounds

now I slip

swallowing black ocean

with every breath

the more I drift

Passing By

My observant eyes
Your comforting contrast
Walls of blinding white
No longer an outcast
Blanket silences understood
For me radiating forever
For you never

You Know What I Mean

Despite intentions
Soft green sheen
Eyes fought not to melt
Chest of oozing tar
Crackling black sparks
Feel how I felt
The moment broke
And you spoke
Words of comfort
Without a beat

meanings for poems in previous post

So I know that in the comments you said that the poems confused you, so I thought maybe I should post their meanings on here. Its not easy to summarize what they mean very well, but I will try anyway.

So here it goes:


Feelings float.
Everything encased.
There is no art -
no one has heart
only explosions losing face

1. This goes along with my weird obsession with how there is no such thing as art. To me, art is the spontaneous flow of feelings which usually comes from very emotional people. I feel like a lot of artists are the type who just kind of hold stuff in and then let it out when they create, whatever their form of art may be. The skill comes after. That explains the line "only explosions losing face," because its like they are letting their feelings burst and not caring who sees when other people are viewing what they create.


2010

Surroundings tinted
Maybe just for me
No night or day
Charred routine repeat
Yes, the Mayans lied
But Webers right
Faces closer to hearded cattle
Eyes like diamonds above Seattle

2. "2010" is about how everything is falling apart, but along with that its also about how I feel like we arent children anymore.  The explanation of the disenchantment and losing sense of wonder thing goes with that. Its about how all the bad things are giving me a new "tinted" view, and things are beggining to look different to me. I don't feel like the world is going to end but I feel like 2010 is a reminder that things will be hard. The last line is loosely like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, "like a diamond in the sky." Only I changed it to "above Seattle."  Seattle has a very grunge feel to it, even today, so it has a somewhat depressing feel. It means that even seeing this new way, and dealing with new problems in a mature manner - theres always going to be a sense of childishness in me, I just have that mentality....but thats all.
 
 
The flood stole
Their homes and hearts
Yet still they drank
Worlds apart
But still the same
Kill and save
In everything

3. So floods are made up of water, and anything you drink has water in it because you need it to live.  The thing that took their homes away also gave them life. I say "in everything" because I honestly beleive that nothing is purely good or evil, its all jsut how you use or see it. Theres good and bad in everything in my opinion, somtimes you just have to look a little harder. And yes, it has to do with Westerly.


restless ideas racing
rock back and forth
making sense of madness
in the aftermath
illness wars
medicate treaties
in their battles beauty
in their releif
time for reflection

4. This one is about me feeling better. Clearly. haha.



So that is what I wrote my poems about, now you should comment and tell me what you think now that you know.

I give up, so heres some poems

For the past few posts I was doing, it was nothing but movie reviews, just because I wanted to get followers. This is a blog, and that is the point, but I don't know why I would do just movie reviews. Now I'm going to be putting stuff I want on here.

Anyway, lately I've been feeling creative so I've been writing short poems. They arent very good, but I wanted to put them on here because I think its cool to get even a little feed back.

Let me know what you think of them, they are untitled (I'll just give them numbers) unless otherwise specified. I put it in lose order of my favorites.

Also, I was listening to this song while writing some of these, and you may want to listen to it while you read them, even though they are super short. Its the song "Hung Bunny" by the Seattle band Melvins.

1.
Feelings float.
Everything encased.
There is no art -
no one has heart
only explosions losing face


So for those of you that I havent already explained that to, it plays off the expression "saving face". knowing that it may have a different meaning to you.



2010
Surroundings tinted
Maybe just for me
No night or day
Charred routine repeat
Yes, the Mayans lied
But Webers right
Faces closer to hearded cattle
Eyes like diamonds above Seattle

So as far as rhymes and stuff goes, I do not like this one because i think it seems childish. but I put it second because I like its message and references and things. The one that may be confusing is to Weber because its a sociology thing. What I'm referencing here is when he talks about disenchantment. Basically hes saying that society is losing its sense of wonder and stuff like that.

3.

The flood stole

Their homes and hearts

Yet still they drank

Worlds apart

But still the same

Kill and save

In everything

I'm especially interested to see what you get from that one. Think about what water does.

4.

restless ideas racing

rock back and forth

makeing sense of madness

in the aftermath

illness wars

medicate treaties

in their battles beauty

in their relief

time for reflection

Obvious. Just came out and felt right and theraputic.

it would be cool to me if you guys would leave me some feedback and tell me what you think. tell me what you think they are about, which is your favorite, and whether you like them in general or not. my next post (which will be after i get each persons feed back i guess) will be an explanation of what each is about and stuff like that. you may be suprised how much actually is jam packed into such short little nuggets of words.