A Poem a Day Keeps the Blues Away

I tell myself to write one poem a day,

But today I do not feel like writing poems.

Water and Sand

One mans trash is another mans treasure, but is it the same with creativity or am I just adding more sand to the desert?

I try but it seems like words are just never enough, like their meanings are trapped or just don’t come across, and it’s hard when sometimes I see a person and say, “That person seems so intriguing, bet we’d be friends if words didn’t get in the way.”

So instead I tend to sit in silence, I stare unsure of what to say next, so I say nothing. But the words build up like flood waters behind a damn, and eventually it all breaks and water is let lose on the land, and you find that in smaller quantities it’s manageable and good, but all at once it’s never understood, and so most people leave, to weary to rebuild and you're left with the few souls who refuse to just up and go, the few souls who say “no we can handle it better next time.” But all you see is history repeating itself, you know they should leave but can’t bare the loneliness if they do, still, why, why do they stay, when everyone knows that the only thing you’re good at is letting the words get in the way?

At the airport

By what was mainly my fault, I missed my flight last night. I do place a bit of blame of the 5 Jetblue employees (+1 Kiosk) who tossed me between their stations with all the slow moving displeasure of, well, something that moves slowly towards things that want nothing to do with it.


That being said, props to my dad for not disowning me then and there for all of the trouble I caused.


Instead he helped me find another flight to get on and told me to learn how to "get angry" more effectively. . . sorry.


It has now been right around 12 hours since I arrived at JFK airport, and I feel a bit like the guy Tom Hanks played in that one movie, although I am very aware of how good my life is.


My country isn't in rebellion causing me to be stuck between two lands, and there's no asshole making my life hell and following me around the airport in hopes that he'll get to arrest me (well, that I know of).


Events like this just remind me, if the worst things I've had to deal with this semester is spending the night in Terminal 4, well then my life must be pretty good. While I still have another 15 or so hours before I'm home, which makes me think I could have taken the Oregon trail and gotten there faster, it has thus far been a worthwhile experience.


Plus hey, I have been obsessed with Georgia lately, a little stop there may be fun.


You learn a lot from living in an airport, even if it's just for a while, plus if I had left last night I would haven't seen this crazy "end of the world" fog that has been engulfing the JFK premise since about 2 am.


It's thick, so much so that I could see it last night. More than that though it distorts the image of everything, making it look almost as if there was a blizzard going on. The weirdest part though, is that you can taste it. Not just feel the moisture, but you can taste the fog, and when you exhale you see your breath adding to it despite the fact that it isn't all that cold. Things to think about I suppose.


Birdy

History In The Making.

The atmosphere down here is so thick you can cut it with a knife, and serve it by the slice. From where it started, so it seems it will all end, and all because of just one more man dead. I can hear the cheers through my walls 15 flights up, shouts of USA and the chorus of "God Bless America." The streets are flooded by lights, and people, and the smell of freedom and honor. It's history in the making, it should be with all the time it's been taking, for a rallying point of all those lives lost, it's sad it ends in more death, but I guess that's the cost. The people are crowding just a few blocks away, the World Trade once filled with death is reborn as they celebrate... but remember, We Will Never Forget, we made that promise, and so far it's been kept. So here's to speeches that change a nation in one feel swoop, to communities that prove they will always pull through, to never letting that freedom flame die, because in the darkest of nights you can find your way if just one star's in the sky.




After President Obama's Speech On May 1st 2011, my friends and neighbors poured from our dorms and walked the few blocks over to the World Trade Center, where we were joined by people from all over New York, the USA and the World. This is what I felt upon my return a few hours later.

Chopin

I haven't posted anything lately, but I have been busy writing all sorts of things, so here is a poem update!

Maybe I’ll be George,

And You’ll be Chopin.

Like them, for a few years

Let us have our fun.

But you’ll be less sickly,

And I’ll be less of a man.

Yes, I’ll be George,

And You’ll be Chopin.

Thanks for reading!

Birdy (-:

Motivation?

Blegh. It's been quite some time since I posted an angsty update, so prepare yourself.


The last few weeks have been especially hard to handle. Ever since I returned from Iceland I have just been seemingly unable to complete anything. I'm worried my grades are going to reflect this when school gets out in a month. For instance, I had an assignment due last Monday, and I did the second half incorrectly, so I asked the professor if I could redo it, he said yes, but it's been six days and I still haven't been able to complete it, even after I spent three hours the other day staring intermittently at the reading and the blank word doc where my answers should have gone. I don't even have the willingness to edit that last sentence so that it isn't a run on. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!


I just have so many ideas and thoughts and story lines and questions and things in general rushing through my head and I don't know which one to grab first and focus on, I don't know what's worth paying attention to and what's worth pushing to the back for a bit, and it's driving me crazy!!!! I can't focus on everything at once but since I can't decide what to focus on, it seems as if I'll focus on nothing instead.


I keep telling myself that I need motivation, but that's not true, I have TONS of motivation, I just need like an organizer for my thoughts. And I need to just pick something, do it and check it off my list, although a lot of the things on the list are things that I either can't do by myself, or will take a lot of time to set up and execute, like my theatre thing that I want to happen this summer. I know I can make it work, but I don't know where to start to make it work, it's all just so frustrating!! GRRRRRRRRR!!!!!


SO MUCH VENTING OF ANGST!!!!!!! BLEGH!


I feel better after venting, maybe now I will be able to actually get something done!!!!! Who knows. I guess I'll start with that assignment, although he may not be willing to accept it now. Here's to hoping.

I don't feel much like writing posts...

But I have been writing short stories and drawing a lot so uh happy Tuesday?