Keep Forgetting

Storm

The clouds darken; the air, it stills
Can't you taste coming? It's nearly here.
But we still walk down a dusty road
Going nowhere.

Raindrops drip down on my head.
I yearn for our warm, soft blanket.
So I turn back to head inside
But you lay me down on a bed of dirt
And say good night.

Watching you walk away, I know the truth
There's nothing left that can be done
As the rain pours down.
I won't get up.
I just close my eyes
And sink into the mud.

Breathe in. Breathe out.
You walk alone on a dusty road
Headed home.
Say goodnight.

---

That was written back in early May. I came across it and decided I needed to post it.

Cutesy, Overly-Cliche Song I Wrote in Second Block

It needs a lot of work.

V1:
Under a night sky, we say goodbye
To the life we once knew
And here in your car, you shine like the stars
Never thought I'd ever have to miss you.
You were everything I'd been missing out on.
You were the only thing I could depend on.

Pre-Chorus:
On the day you found somebody else
You promised nothing would ever change. [It didn't.]
Even though left me by myself,
I still feel the same.

Chorus:
When you're here with me,
You're all I can see.
I always lose my breath when I'm pressed against your chest
Nothing needs to be said,
Cause it's all in my head.
When we both lose our minds, I'll still be by your side.
So don't worry about losing me.
I don't know how to leave

V2:
We fall apart, but we're still connected at the heart
Moving on is hard to do.
Though I am with him, I still feel your skin.
Never get a chance to tell you
That when you're sitting to me
I can still feel the chemistry.

Pre-Chorus 2:
On the day I found somebody else
I swore that my feelings had changed. [They didn't]
So I keep lying to myself,
Cause I still feel the same.

[Chorus]

You're standing right in front of me
But you're so far away.
I say I need more room to breathe
Can we do this another day?
You swear that you will never leave
You're begging me to stay.
You tell me that you need me
I wish I could just say.

[Chorus 2x]

Under a night sky, we say goodbye
To the lies we once knew.
And here in you arms, you shine like the stars.
Never thought I'd ever get to kiss you.
This is everything I'd been missing out on
This is the only thing I can depend on.

Random Poetry Written While I Should've Been Taking Algebra Notes

Today

You asked me if I missed you
I said, "I do.
But not as much
As I miss your truck."
But just my luck.
For that smart remark to cost me
Getting you back.

Feed Me

Rumbling, grumbling,
Pleading - "Please feed me!"
The stomach begins to growl
Its acid is churning,
Burning away its walls.
It screams and cries
"I'm going to die!
If you don't get some food
Down here some time soon!"
And who would believe
Underneath such a beautiful figure
Lives the saddest little stomach?
So, please feed the models.

[I was so hungry when I wrote that. XD]

Ghost

In my room, there's a ghost
He isn't that scary, but he still bugs me.
Cold, lifeless, without a form,
Floating and judging my every move.

I say "Go away, Mr. Ghost.
Everybody else has gotten on with their lives.
I don't need your haunting reminding me
Of who I used to be."

But the Ghost says nothing.
He just stays in the same place
Coldly reminding me of you
In my room.

Of Freedom and Blankets

I have blankets that smother
And swallow me up, softly,
Killing me inside.

I'd rather you not hold me.
Your strong arms will crush
The air out of my lungs.

But don't get me wrong, I do love you.
I just need my space.

Come Home! (I Miss You)

Like a helpless housewife,
I stay up to all hours of the night,
Waiting for you to come home,
Hoping you'll be alright.

Though I know you don't care,
I'll still wait here,
Hoping you will come home
Before the break of day.

You never do.

--

I had Oh, Avalanche by Gregory and The Hawk stuck in my head while writing these so they probably have an odd beat to them.

On a related note, I'm still hungry and have No idea what we're going over in Algebra.

I Live To Let You Shine

"but you can skyrocket away from me
and never come back if you find another galaxy
far from here with more room to fly
just leave me your stardust to remember you by"
-"Boats and Birds" by Gregory and The Hawk

The Locket
I was under pressure, when I heard his lies.
I was head-heels deep, when we said goodbye.
Never breathed a word, locked it all away,
Vowed I'd take my locket to the grave.
And in the dark I left my locket rust.
Swore to God never again would I trust
The lies of men as they lie next to me
Begged the world to let me go free.

I was spinning out, needed something new.
I was losing hope, when I first met you.
Nearly lost my mind, talked the night away
Dusted off my locket, thought I'd never say.
Hard as I tried, I couldn't get it opened.
The words inside, felt like an explosion
Of hurt and pain, the feelings flowing out.
So I hid myself among my fear and self-doubt.

But you saw through it,
Tore the locket from my hands.
I screamed and cried,
But you wouldn't give it back.
You pulled and tugged,
Wouldn't stop until it broke.
The light poured out,
And you embraced the exposed.

--

Fuck.

I wish I were better at writing these. I hate how bad I am at getting the words out. I really need to find a better way to express myself.

Last night I really realized how I felt about something. I'm probably not going to talk about it on here or even write bad poetry about it. It's not a big deal. Let's just say that I might not have gotten what I wanted out of it, but instead, I got something priceless. For that, I'm very grateful. :3 And really I don't have any room to whine, recently my life has been going rather easy.

On a similar note, I also let go of something I've been holding onto for a very long time. It was unhealthy. I'd been misplacing the blame for a very long time, when really all that matters is that it happened and that I need to move on because everyone else has.

Note: the title/lyrics at the beginning have nothing to do with the poem. I just really love that song. A Wish is also an amazing song by them.

Music You Should Check Out:
-Gregory and the Hawk [band]
-The Hazards of Love [album] by The Decemberists
-Tegan and Sara [band]
-The Mario Kart Love Song. :3
-My Brightest Diamond [band]
-Eisley [band]
-The Dolly Song by Holly Dolly. XD

Where The Hell is This Coming From?

In The Isolation Chamber
There's a girl inside
A dirty cage, she sighs.
She's a lonely one.
Her past can't be undone.
With no one to witness, she cries.
With no one, alone, she'll die.

Broken spirit of another starlet torn.
Broken hearted for this moment she has longed
For the spirit of another so she can leave.
Here, the broken are screaming to be set free.
Won't you please save me?

Lies of treasures never known.
The aching and the breaking
Until you have nothing more.
A promise of acceptance
How do they know that's
All you want?

There's a girl inside
A dirty world. She writes
Of the hope she still holds
As her future slowly unfolds.
With no one to witness, she smiles.
With no one, alone, she'll try.

--

Once again, I'm not sure where the fuck this came from. D: More angsty, with a hint of hopefulness teenage poetry. Written from the same vein as Sam[one of the poems in that obnoxiously long post of poetry I posted back in January]. Except I'd like to think this one is a little more internal conflict-y while the other was more of a narrative.

Update on Rhiannon's life: SPRING BREAK IS GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME.

This Love Isn't Good Unless It's Me and You

You're Still The One
The tears you cry are the knives in my heart.
Every time you scream, it tears me apart.
After all the pain, am I still the one you love?
After all of these years, you’re still the one.

Rocking to sleep, and kissing in darkness
Hearing you sigh, it’s always the hardest
Part of our love. It’s never been easy, I know.
After all of these years, we’ve not lost hope.

I breakdown and leave you. My heart cannot take this.
You yell and we argue. It never can break us.
Our lives are so crazy, yet there’s nothing to gain.
The world’s always changing, but one thing stays the same.

Rocking to sleep, and laughing through hardships
Seeing you smile, we’re back where we started.
With you holding my hand, I know I’m still in love.
After all of these years, you’re still the one. <3

--

Okay, so this poem is actually written about somebody and something, but I accidentally turned it into a romantic love rather than my platonic love for the person it was written for. Probably because I just really liked the line "kissing in darkness". And because I was listening to Tegan and Sara, who make my world go 'round, you[and by you I'm talking to the total of two people who read this bullshit] should check them out. This poem bears an unfortunate resemblance to the same themes of their song "I Know I Know I Know". They should sue me. XD

God I wish I could come up with more original material. >.<

Wait, They Don't Love You Like I Love You

I Just Hope You Know

Eyelashes batting from a battered heart
Lovely girl, you're a work of art.
I just hope you know
He doesn't want you.

Dark red lipstick on your precious lips
Hungry girl, no more than this
I just hope you know
He doesn't want you.

Tell me I can't understand
That we're just friends
Tell me I don't stand a chance
I just hope you know

Rejection pains for the painted veil
Lonely girl, only time will tell
I just hope you know
He doesn't love you
I just hope he knows
You'll never love him
Like I do.

--

This is what happens when I listen to insane amounts of Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Howie Day. And I am aware that there are bits that could be interpreted as slightly homoerotic, but deal with it. That was totally unintentional. To me it feels more like song lyrics than a poem. Idk, I'm just really in this musical mood.

Aghh it's spring break. Time for doing nothing. :D

If I Loved You Today

Free Fall
With my fingers trembling,
I stand at the end of the world.
I'm longing to be free,
But my knees buckle inwards.
In my head, I argue that I should wait for another day.
So I take a step back.

The ledge is begging me to jump.
For once, take a chance.
The world holds me back,
Chained to a life of discontent.
My head swears I’d jump were there some one to catch me.
I turn to walk back home.

No.

An about face, I run swiftly
With the wind rushing through my hair.
For once in my life,
The chatter in my head is silenced.
The cliff cheers me on, and like a bird, I spring into the sky—
And fall, eyes open, into the unknown.

--

The above poem is utter crap. I wrote it in first period a couple days ago. I definitely wasn't going to post it here, but Helen was bitching at me to update. So this is what you get. :P

It's getting all spring-ish outside. It makes me happy. :D

I's not a Dinosaur

This world you see is a dark cesspool of revolting scum. We're zombies, unwilling to feel. We'd rather hide behind our drugs. All of us from grungy junkies to beaten housewives with their Valium. In barcaloungers, with our king-size fast food clutched in hand, we'd rather watch television than be alive, and yet we're all afraid to die. Children starving in foreign worlds, five-cents for a life? Adolescents starving for attention in a world of true strife. Fundamentalists on TV preaching about some all-powerful God, needing you to pay a sacred price. And you, Nietzsche-wannabe, smugly smirking, pretending to be better than the rest of us. All because you know how to whine about all of society's flaws?

Above any of the other zombies that roam this Earth, I pity your lack of life.

Today I Hate Myself

A Fairy Tale Ending
A princess in a castle,
Waiting for a knight to save her.
An impatient distressed damsel,
She had won my farm boy's favor.

He felt he had no chance
So I helped him reach the tower's top.
Now I watch the wedding dance,
And plead this cruel world to stop.

--

Ignore the absolute crappiness of this poem. I was watching Princess Bride and being a mopey child.

Save Me, Tom Cruise

Perfection
You kiss me eyes closed
The world stands still
My heart explodes like a firework sky

All I've wanted.

You kiss me eyes closed
I'm so close to being her
Same hair, same build, same silly grin

All you've wanted.

I kiss you eyes closed
Because I can have you
When I believe our beautiful lie.

It's perfect.

---

I haven't written anything of quality in such a long time. >.< Then I just sat down and wrote this. I'm so proud of it.

Anyhow, I hope you liked it and your life is filled with nothing but happiness.

I'm in a really good mood.

The World's a Fine Place

Refuge is sought in the crawlspace beneath a loose floorboard.

"I'm afraid."

"Hush dear."

Bated breath as footsteps move down the hall.

Closer, closer.

"Mommy."

A hand is clasped over a mouth.

Whistling comes from the hallway.

Closer, closer.

Stop!

The footsteps, the breathing.

Only the terror remains.

A door creaks open.

"Clau-di-a.

Ro-o-sie,

C'mon out.

I know you're in here.

Don't be scared."

Silent tears run down a mother's cheeks. The stench of whiskey fills the room.

Could the neighbors have heard the screams?

Would they call the police before the gunshots rang?

Was this world really worth fighting for?

Life, Save the Empty

Today, Yesterday

You wrapped your arms around me

And it took my breath away.

It felt like not a single meaningless day had passed

Since you last held me.

Like it was only yesterday.

When we finally let go, you turned

And you introduced me to her.

A flawless porcelain doll, beaming, loving you

With all of her naive heart

Like there was no day but today

You told her that we were old friends

And I understand why you did.

But seeing you, seeing her, I couldn’t help wonder

What our lives would be like

If you loved me like you did yesterday

Had we been the real deal, true love,

And do you really love her?

Could we have been as happy as you are with her?

Do I still love you?

No.

Not today.

The Incident at 1507 SE Benning, Apartment 21

The number eighty-four bus screeches to a halt in front of a rundown apartment complex. The building itself looks like it should be condemned, the decay showing through its bricks. The lamp lit SE Benning Street is an urban nightmare for any directionally challenged tourist. Grimy men slipinto the alleyways between the decomposing buildings, with money in their pockets and a fix on their minds. Women in high heels and tight clothes stroll down the sidewalk, stopping by anxious men in parked cars, asking if they wanted a ride. Men and women, alike in their soiled rags, sit on the steps in front of these shit houses because they can't even afford rent in an apartment this squalor. As this bus creaks to a stop in front of one-five-oh-seven SE Benning, they perk their ears up to see the bus-door open and quickly close as a single passenger steps out onto the street.

A fine looking businessman stepped out onto the concrete.

"Eddie," grins an old vagrant. His voice is scratchy and the man coughs into his fingerless gloves after speaking.

Despite his immediate welcome by the occupants, Edward Vincent does not belong on Benning Street. Anyone can tell this just by looking his general direction. Dark-haired and brown-eyed, Edward stands at six foot and is wearing a nice white-collar shirt to go along with his comfy white-collar job. He loosens his blood red, silk tie and digs through his pocket to find a quarter. As he steps up onto the complex's steps, he flips the elder the quarter and reaches to open the door...

Up in apartment 21, Victoria Valentini is brushing her raven hair. Behind the dark circles and bruised cheek, there is a face that could be on film. Legend has it, that the most beautiful of angels envied that perfect face, and in order to make themselves feel better, they cast her into the darkest pits of the world. She tries to size herself up in the smudged, cracked mirror. With her jet black hair cascading upon her shoulders, her gaze turns to her battle wounds. The circles are there to stay, she has become accustomed to the unwelcome marks of insomnia. The bruise, on the other hand, is fresh. Victoria likes to play with the big boys. Honestly, it's nothing a little foundation can't fix.

Little Italy's not wearing much. A black skin-tight wife beater and grey, stained boxers are all the girl's dressed in. She's not expecting company, but at the same time, her jaw is twitching. She can tell somebody is coming. Her eyes stay on the mirror, but her fingers stray down to open a dresser drawer and slowly begin to pull it open.

There is a knock at the door and the twitchy girl swerves around, gun in hand, aimed right for whoever tries to come through her door. Her jaw is clenched and her hands feel very at home around the cold steel. A single drop of sweat appears on her forehead as she calls out in her low rasping voice, "Who is it?"

"Just me Vicky. Put down the damn gun and let me in," answers a gruff voice from the other side of the apartment door.

Her body loses the tension at his familiar voice. Dropping her gun, she dashes for the door and opens it up like a fourteen-year-old girl, eager for her first date. A smile comes to her red lips and her violet eyes light up at the sight of him.

"Hey baby," replies her lover as she steps aside to let him in.

The tall man enters. Unlike Victoria's hidden beauty, he looks like a statue of a god. His dark brown hair is spiked up a bit in the front and his blue eyes glitter like diamonds. Though he is only four or five inches taller than her, he is large and muscular, making him look twice as big as the dainty Victoria.

"Paul, I wasn't expecting you," she smiles and lowers her head, blushing, trying to hide that her determined eyes are still on the open door.

Paul gives her a quick peck on the lips and groans as he slowly sits down on her bed. Taking off his shoes, the big man says, "This week has been motherfuckin' crazy, I swear. Just today, there were about fifteen guys who came to me about this total dumbshit problem that I fixed yesterday. Not to mention the wife has been on my back all week. Jimmy has a science fair. Lily needs help with her homework. Yadda, yadda, like I care about her damn kids."

Victoria cringes slightly at his words.

"'Ey babe, how's about closin' that door and gettin' me somethin ta drink?" Paul asks, in a way that is more of an order than a question. The mistress takes one last careful look down the hallway before closing the door and heading to the refrigerator. Paul kicks back on the bed and spots the remote to the small, stolen television under a pair of dirty panties. Grabbing it, he barks, "Doncha ever clean this place?"

Victoria rolls her eyes and looks through the small fridge. Pulling out a can of beer, she turns and replies annoyed, "No, you gotta problem with that?"

The big man's grin faded and his face went cold. There is the distinct sound of somebody in the hallway singing Irving Berlin's "Steppin' Out With My Baby" as Victoria's odd, violet eyes turn as icy as winter in Wisconsin. Standing up, Paul grabs her by the wrist and forcefully pulls her closer to him. "Listen Sparky," he growls, "I don't want you given me any lip unless it involves-" His other hand lands on her hip.

"Steppin' out with my baby,"

Her free hand raises and slaps across his face. There is one second of silence as they both take in what just happened. Instinctively, Paul throws her to the ground and bellows, "You little bitch!", as Victoria scampers on the ground trying to get away from her attacker.

"Can't go wrong cause I'm in right."

"Oh no, you don't!" he growls and grabs her by her long black hair. Before she can even scream in pain, the big man slams her against the dresser. Collapsing on the floor, her eyes spot the handgun lying on the ground next to her. He raises his hand to strike her as she reaches for the gun. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!"

"Ask me when will the day be."

Suddenly a gunshot rings out just as Valentini's hand touches her pistol. Her eyes dart up to see Paul staggering and a smile comes to her lips as the apartment door flies open. In steps a tall, business man holding a hand gun and firing off two more shots into the big man, who is dead before he hits the floor.

"The big day may be tonight," finishes the gunman in bravado. Putting away his gun, he takes out a box of cigarettes from his left pocket and his eyes flit over to Victoria. "Jesus Vicky, he really fucked you up! Are you okay?"

He offers the bruised damsel his hand. Taking it, she stands up and straightens up her clothes.

"Eddie!" she growls in a hurried, hushed voice, "What the fuck took you so long? I was worried I'd have to finish him off myself. Christ are you sure this is gonna work? Won't the hole in the door give it away?"

Despite her evident panic, Edward holds one of the cigarettes at his lips and lights it. Breathing out smoke, he calmly smiles and whispers, "I could hear you fighting from the hallway. I could hear Mrs. Gonzales run for the phone worried about you. It will all look like I came to visit my little sister and saved her from a cheating bastard the only way I could. See this will clean up much more nicely than if it was a simple murder."

Victoria crosses her arms and sighs, "If this doesn't work I'm not visiting you in jail."

"Oh, if I go to jail, I'm taking you down with me, little sis," Edward replies. His voice is playful, but there is an honest threat behind it.

The beautiful girl shrugs it off as a police siren wails outside. The siren has become a familiar sound to her ear. She lays down on her bed and mutters, "There's gotta be something better."

---

This is something I wrote a long time ago. I kinda liked it though. >.<

I Told You I'd Write It

Six Strings
Black, plastic, with six little strings
Which sing and bring that smile
To her face, every time he plays
That guitar. A smile, once broken
Such a long time ago, by the one
Who played four strings.

My friend asked me what she should write a poem about. I suggested her boyfriend's guitar. (What? It's a kick-ass guitar. xD) Anyhow, she shot the idea down rather quickly. So I said I'd write a poem about it. And she dismissed it.

So I wrote this to spite her. I actually think it's pretty good.

Nice Girls Finish Last

Desperation was an understatement.
He was everything she ever wanted.

A lover, a friend, a heart ache.

Boys, it's true what they say.
All girls want bad boys.

Nice guys finish last.

Sometimes he'd pray she'd change her mind.
Until then, they were just friends.

Just friends.

That's all nice guys ever are.
Friends.

She would rather be with a bad boy.
Because all girls want a bad boys.

Except for you.

You never wanted a bad boy.
But what did the nice guy tell you?

Let's be friends.
Just friends.

At least bad boys only use you.

---

Mehhhh, this really isn't pertaining to what most people would probably think it is. Like this poem-like thing is zero-percent personal. I've just always thought it was hypocritical how some guys complain about girls only wanting bad boys, when they themselves only want "broken girls."

I have a whole theory on it. Maybe I'll post it on here some time.

Oh, No, No, No.

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs always make me happy.

I Believe I'm Going to be Alright
You showed me a secret house in a dark forest.
I believed that made me different.
You showed me a person beneath all the metal
I believed that made me special.

I told you something I thought I'd never say.
You believed it wouldn't work out that way.
You told me were better off as friends
I believe that you were right.

Wow Rhiannon, way not to be obvious. xD

Suck

That Morning

Sometimes I wonder if when you woke up that morning, you hit snooze on your clock like you always did or if you for once woke up exactly when you should have. I wonder if you showered in that morning like you always did or if you had showered previously that night. I wonder if you had to change your clothes several times to get that perfect combination or if you just threw something on. I wonder if you ate for breakfast. Was it your usual cereal bar and cup of coffee or did you sit down for a bowl of cereal or pancakes? Did you brush your teeth for the full three minutes or did you brushed your hair longer than usual? When you looked in the mirror, did you realize how great you looked? Did you realize you always looked great? Did you check your phone and see my message? Did try to text back your best friend and the message just didn't get through to my phone or was it still too awkward for you to even communicate with me?

Sometimes I wonder exactly what time you walked out your front door, and if you told your mother you loved her before leaving. I wonder if your older brother teased you as you were leaving or if he'd already left. Did your old piece of junk car stalled and you had to try a couple times before it would start running. Did you wave to that woman who always runs around your neighborhood in the morning. Was your mind thinking deeply on a certain subject, or were you mindlessly singing along to the song on the radio? What was playing on the radio? Was it your usual station, or was that song you could never stand playing and you had to change it to a different station? Or were you listening to a CD? Did that song remind you of anyone? Were certain words burnt in your brain?

Sometimes I wonder if some jerk cut you off, and if you swore a string of obscenities under your breath. I wonder if you sped to school cause you were running late or if you just didn't care because there were more important things on your mind. Did you even know what time it was or was the clock in your car a couple minutes slow? Did you catch all the red lights or ease through all the green lights? Did you wait impatiently at that one red light, or did you take your time before hitting the gas again? Did you see that truck coming or did it hit you before you even knew what was happening? How bad did it hurt? I hope to God that you didn't feel a thing. I like to tell myself that you snapped your neck on impact, but I know that wasn't your fate.

Sometimes I wonder what your last thought was about and if you knew you were going to die. I wonder if you thought about all the things if you had to live for and all the things you wish you'd never did. Did I cross your mind at all? Did you know how much I would miss you? Did you know how much I'd cry at your funeral and for the entire two months afterwards, and how many nights I would sit up wondering about every single thing happened to you? Could you have ever known how much I wish just one little part of those things on that morning had gone different? Because if it had, you'd still be on this Earth, even if you weren't with me.

---

I came up with the idea for this in Driver's Ed.

I'm kinda going through a breakdown. My mind hurts and I'm going back into that phase where I just absolutely hate everything about myself and I can't see myself ever having a happy future.

Ashes to Ashes

The pitch-black sky stretched for miles as two old friends, a man and woman in the prime of their lives, sat on a front porch, watching the deadly sky. The man sat in the corner holding his knees, with a fearful look in his eyes. Lying upside down with her feet up in the air while she stretched, the woman yawned, coughed harshly, and checked her watch.

“It’s half past noon,” she informed her friend and sat up, crossing her legs like a child eager to hear a story.

“Never wanted to see the end of the world,” the young man sighed and leaned against the railing. “Always thought it would come long after my children were long gone.”

“Well, somebody had to see it,” she responded and stood up. Her voice sounded as far away as her eyes looked, now wondrously gazing at the midnight afternoon sky. Coughing again, she looked down at her friend and offered a hand for him to take. Reluctantly, he took it and pulled himself up to stand next to her. Walking toward the road, the young woman paused only to pick up a stick in the front yard. Her companion followed, curiously, as they walked down the road to the edge of the neighborhood to the street.

With the mobs now hiding, or worse, the street, once a busy highway, now was littered with trash, a few crashed cars, and the occasional sign of death. The young man tried not to look at that last bit when they did come across one. His associate, on the other hand, seemed not to notice such things at all. In fact, she seemed to notice nothing as she strolled the street, poking cans and hitting pebbles with her stick. So distant from this hell, she would only stop every once in awhile to cough such a hacking, horrid cough that her friend would stop as well and sigh.

“We’re dying, Eve,” he finally said plainly, after a particularly intense coughing fit that she had to stop and sit on the curb. Behind them stood the grocery mart, with its windows shattered and food, necessities, and other things strewn across the parking lot. The screaming, fighting, and gunshots now had been replaced with an eerie silence.

The silence caused young man’s hands began to tremble, and his friend looked up at him, with a trace of fear in her eyes. The fear, though, was not for his words, but for his expression. His eyes had the gleam of a madman, for he was surely mad, and his face twisted to this panicked frenzy as he spoke.

“We’re dying,” he repeated, more angrily this time, “And there’s nothing our technology, our science, our prayers can do about it. Christ, you’d think that we’d be able to do something about it, but in the end, the high and mighty human race falls like ants beneath a kid’s magnifying glass to Mother Nature. You and I, we kept our heads when all were rioting in the streets. We were calm and collected when all others were trying vainly to cheat death, and what do we get for our rationality? We get to die like the rest of them! They acted like animals and we were calm. It’s getting harder to breathe. And look at you, Eve; you can hardly stand.”

The woman looked at her ankles and he took a step back. “We’re going to die,” he, with a manic laughter in his voice, yelled to the heavens as he tugged at his hair, looking desperately for an answer, “and there’s not a damn thing that can save us!”

With that, he collapsed to his knees, coughing. For the final time, he repeated a single phrase. This time his words were filled with despair as he hugged his knees and in a soft, broken voice cried, “We’re dying, Eve.”

The girl embraced her best friend and told him in a calm, comforting voice, “Adam, we were always dying.”

===

Okay so, it's been awhile since I wrote in this. First off, the preceding story kind of came to me while I was watching a Twilight Zone. It was originally going to be two old friends sitting on the front porch admitting their love for each other at the end of the world, but just how the boy seemed so anxious, and the girl seemed so laid back, made me want to make them go for a walk, and eventually, Adam lost his mind. Then I just had to end it with that line. It kind of wrote itself. I'm debating whether I should submit it to LitMag or not. So when you comment this, it would be helpful if you point out things that sound awkward or things that don't make sense. Btw, extra points if you get the title. I don't expect anyone to get it though, so don't feel bad.

Secondly, update on what's going on Rhiannon-World, so far 2oo9 has been amazing. I haven't cried yet so that's a good sign. Granted, it's only the second day, but I digress. As for what's been going on since I last updated, I've been kind of caught up in a bunch of stuff recently, if you know what I'm talking about good for you, if you don't it doesn't matter because I'm finally over it and getting back to myself. I am not in any way looking forward to going back to that hell that is Hardin Valley Academy. Seriously am I the only person who dies a little inside when I remember: "I don't go to a high school; I go to an academy."? It makes me want to shoot a bunny in the face. I really, really hate that school. You have no idea.

Thirdly, I wish you a happy 2oo9. Whether jolly old 'o8 was the best year of your life so far, or the worst, or even just an okay year, every year has the potential to be better than the last.

What You Already Know

"You're just jealous of my awkward!"

-Rhiannon McHugh

My name is Rhiannon Theresa-Marie McHugh. I am between the ages of ten and one hundred. I am the Queen of Awkward. To me, awkwardness is an art. You have to be able to jump up on the tables of familiarity, get uneasily close to the faces of comfort and yell "Would you like to buy a ficus!?"

But in all seriousness, I'm the least serious person you will ever meet. Seriously. Despite how much I say "I'm not even kidding" or "seriously, guys", I take everything in stride. Life is a sitcom and I'm just a recurring character. I'll let you be the stars.

Speaking of stars, I'm very much into astronomy and astrology and other astro-stuff. I believe in a simpler world. There's so much out there that we don't know about, and as far as I'm concerned I don't want to know about. I prefer wondering to knowing. Call me ignorant, but there's a certain innocence in the unknown.

And that's what I'm all about. The unknown. I don't know what I'll be in ten years, I don't know what the capital of Lithuania is, I don't know who I am or who you are, and I don't know who created liquid soap and why. Life is all about the unknown, and humans are too curious for my taste. Well that's not fair to say, I like curious. I just don't like when people tell me what things are. Who says I can't be a fairy princess? Or that I can't dance? Or that the Green Bay Packers will never win another Superbowl?

Really that's all you need to know about me.

Now I've tried to start blogs before, but honestly, I'm better at reading them than writing them. But this time I've been inspired by Helen, to create a writing blog. Really most of this will be stuff that I've written. Maybe even chapters to a story I've been working on, if I can ever get my ADD mind to finish the first chapter. Then every once in awhile I'll probably have a random update on my life and it will go something like this:

Anyway, what's been going on in my life. I'm not enjoying HVA. Everybody always asks me how I like it when they hear I go to Hardin Valley. I'd just like to say: it's over-rated. I mean sure we basically get to listen to our iPods and txt whenever we want to, but seriously, they make a giant deal out of everything. I would honestly rather be part of a school that had already been established than go through the irritating "tradition-making" that we have at "the Academy." And they want all of us to get along. I mean give us some frickin' time and we will eventually integrate. But no, HVA is intent on getting all of its students to become BFF's immediately.

On the upside, I was fixing my hair in the bathroom the other day, and didn't feel disgusted by still chewing my gum in there. While at Karns, that probably would've given me an STD.

And that's all I have to say about that.