Now What.

As you all know, January 16th is the day that we get yet another new Creative Writing teacher. Mr.Good will be replaced, being that he is retired, and can only teach 49% of the school year as a substitute teacher. There are hundreds of different rules and regulations that come with this mess, ones I'm struggling to understand. In all honesty, I'm nervous for this new teacher we're supposed to be getting.
Last year in my French class, we began the year with a new teacher as our previous one had moved away. Madame-I-can't-remember-her-name had just moved here from Texas, and was harboring a fugitive. Literally. She and her daughter moved here to get away from her husband, who was battling for custody. Not only did MICRHN fail us in the aspect of not being available, due to the brutal phone calls she had in the hallway with her lawyer, but she also failed us by not teaching us a thing. Although, I did get to watch the Toy Story in French at least six times, along with the Little Mermaid, and a movie about a naked boy.
Needless to say she was fired, halfway through the year. We then received a Mr.Dehaven, who was a decent teacher. He was very awkward, tall, skinny, and could easily have been directly removed from the nineties. I also didn't learn anything during his short stay. We finished the year with him, and I was as clueless to French verbs as I was when I began.
If all of that didn't prove to the school board that giving a job as important as a French teacher to Joe-Schmo on the street, they will never understand the importance of losing Ms.McKenna, and then taking Mr.Good from us, and more specifically me.
If I had my way, I'd keep Mr.Good here, working in the position he is in currently. As he is not just teaching, he's helping give students a different way of viewing life, and teaching each of us a thing or two about coping. Regrettably, I cannot have my way, such is life. Mr.Good taught me more in his short stay than most teachers have taught me in a full year. I'm glad that I had him as a teacher, even if it was for such a short period of time.

Bananaboat.

Ha. I fooled you. Trailmix had nothing to do with my last post. I didn't say the word trail, or the word mix in the whole post. I didn't even elude to the mixture f all things good minus raisins.
Unless, it could be a metaphor. My life being the trail. Mix being the "What if" factor of the post. You have no idea which one it is. It's completely up to you to determine the meaning of my writings. I'll never spell it out for you, nor will anybody else.
But! It is me, we're talking about here. My last journal write could have easily been titled "wondering..." or "Queen evil," but it wasn't. Not because neither of those crossed my mind, it was titled "Trailmix" for an incredibly simple reason. I was just eating trailmix.

Trailmix.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I didn't live in Juneau. If I had moved away when I had the chance, left this hell hole forever.
I would be tan. My hair would be lighter. I'd be some queen evil at some random high school. I'd know how to swim. I wouldn't be afraid of ticks. I wouldn't have the friends I do now. I'd be louder, more emotional, and more stuck-up.
None of that sounds terrible, until I think of all the things I'd lose if I didn't live here. My best friends, the support and craziness that comes with them wouldn't be there. I'd lose the love of my life. I wouldn't be me. I'd have become much more shallow. I wouldn't care about my family. I wouldn't be as unique as I am now.
As much as I absolutely despise Juneau, I wouldn't change a thing about growing up here. It helped make me who I am now. It gave me experiences that broke me and built me up, and it gave me the crazy to get myself through them.

What Inspires Me.

The little things.

In My Bag.

Assorted eyeliner, at least three
A water bottle, half empty, half full.
Coverup, to mask my flaws
Tacky lotion, that reeks of cupcakes
Heaps of change, congregating at the bottom
A paperclip or two, for nervous moments
Gum wrappers. Mint tin. Lipstick.
A mini papa smurf, the only man I love
Back up glasses, my favorite color
Pens and pencils, for the average school girl
Birth control, keeping me in check
Benadryll to calm my allergies
An iPod, to drown you out
Headphones. Condoms. Check stubs.
A hate letter, addressed to me long ago
A super duck, who defends me from evil villains
A small mirror, traveled from France
Marilynn Monroe, tiny and fire breathing
Blush to give my pale skin color
And eyeshadow, rarely used.
Remnants of yesterday, a randomness I can't control.

What I learned.

In reality, I suppose I haven't learned a whole lot. I lost a teacher that meant more to me than any of my other teachers ever have, I suffered greatly, I moved on like I was supposed to, and now I get to sit and wonder, like I'm supposed to.
Loss isn't easy for anyone, in any sense, but I tend to deal with it by letting go as quickly as possible. I grieve, and then I ignore. It's not the most healthy manner, but after all the suffering and pain, I know what I can and can't handle.
I have learned that you cannot take anything back. Each action is forever in motion, it happened and will never change. There is no going back, all you have now is the present, because you aren't guaranteed a future any more than you are to be a millionaire.
Lives change and grow separate from one another, but you find yourselves intertwined with people you're close to. That's where pain comes from, the hopes and expectations you have. In any case, each person sets themselves up for failure, and falls regardless of the expectation. Nothing is ever quite as it seems.
Although, the climb is worth it. Everybody falls, but not everyone gets back up and tries again. In my mind, everything will be okay with time. Pain dulls, the happy moments shine, and I let myself be taken away in the happiness, because that's really all there is to life.

Obese Pooh Bear.

Blog Reviews.

Your Eyes Will Be Satisfied
He writes about Spirit Toads, dying snowmen, and Disney land. What more do you need in a blog?
Traffic Cones on Churches
This is Sydney. She's better than you.
Till Human Voices
Freya is incredible. She will blow you away with her depth, and how beautifully articulate her poetry is.

Rebecca. Martin Williams

  

Rebecca, insane at last

                as we all knew she would be

                the veil finally stripped away

                by brutal love

                more brutal than the love she 

                yearned for

                at the hand of a shrieking mother

                who kicked her in the stomach 

                called her whore at the age 

                of ten, because her brother

                raped her.

Rebecca, insane at last

                those dark wounded eyes

                in the round soft face of a child

                of twenty-six

                scratching at my window at three in 

                the morning

                wet with rain, forcing me to see

                what I had done to her

                when I withdrew love. It was now

                when I treated her the worst

                she desired me the most

                and made sacrifices.

Rebecca, insane at last

                a cold white hand floating

                in a tub of milky red water

                and Jean Nate

                shoulder and head leaning to one side,

                The Death of Marat,

                damp black hair stuck to tiles

                once held to a lover's face

                like a bouquet of roses

                blue lips vaguely smiling

                as she punishes us. 

Rite a Riff

I chose this picture, not only because it has nothing to do with anything in this post, but also because when searching individuality online this came up. 

I pledge allegiance to individuality,

To the difference found in all of us. 

Being unique and different

For each and every Peer.

To changing our future,

To owning our past.

I pledge allegiance to being your own person,

To knowing your wants and needs,

And acting upon them.

I pledge to be myself,

Through all the pain and corruption 

Found in our dark existence.

I pledge allegiance to our apparent freedom,

The theory better than reality.

Our nation in pain

As we sit and watch.

We kill so we won't be killed,

Preach on our peaceful lives,

But lack the necessities.

I pledge allegiance to love.

To having it.

To being filled with it.

To letting it consume you.

I pledge to expel the hate, 

And to love those most undeserving.

I chose to share this specific fast write not because it was my best moment, or because it was my most in depth writing, but because it is a pledge. It's a pledge to myself. The people in my life will come and go, but at the end of each day all I have is my own word.

Blog Reviews.

The Third Eye Is The Clearest.
Ariel has a way with her words. She writes wonderful poetry and enjoys the art of tyedye. Her blog is a lot of fun to look at, and I think you should check her out.

Poetic Clarity.
Melanya has a way of expressing her self through her words that makes it hard not to feel for her. She clearly has felt the spectrum of pain and happiness, all of the extremes. She's an admirable person and her posts speak to me.

Blub Blub Blub.
This is Roxie. She's great. If you read her posts, it's clear that she's honest and knows what she's talking about. She cares in ways that not everyone understands, and may not every fully understand, but she's easily relatable.

Remember.

December 10, 2008. My best friend was taken from me. There was no warning, it wasn't expected, it just happened. It's three years later, and this song still speaks to me. There was complete innocence in our friendship. A love that was pure and simple, one that I'll never forget. I chose to "Remember" this event in my life because loss is not something to be ignored. Aidan wasn't the only person I've ever had taken from me, the most recent being Ms.McKenna, our lit teacher, but the pain doesn't dull. It's continuous, but eventually it becomes a part of you. 

Swing Life Away - Rise Against

Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?

Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?

Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

We live on front porches and swing life away,

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

I've been here so long, I think that it's time to move

The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon

Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow

I've got some friends, some that I hardly know

But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world

We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go

We live on front porches and swing life away,

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand....until you hold my hand

I'll show you mine if you show me yours first

Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse

Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words

We live on front porches and swing life away,

We get by just fine here on minimum wage

If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,

I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand

Swing life away [x4]