Thumpity

Have you ever felt like the wind was just drifting you away, or like everything was cold, but you still felt warm? I did today. It was pretty strange, I'll admit, but I think I owe it all to the snow. Let me tell you a little something about what happened today.

You can ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you that I'm always freezing. Always. Like ice. They'll tell you that when I touch them, they shiver, and that they can feel an icy chill run up and down they're spine. That's how cold I get. But today, on the coldest of all days, I was warm. Sure, my skin was the same as always, but I was different. Inside was warm. I layed flat on the frost covered ground, four feet up, ontop of all that snow. And I was warm, the warmest I've ever been. That snow gave me some sort of magical powers, known to man as hope. Yeah, I'll admit that sounds pretty cheesy, but that's how I felt. OK, there were days I felt hope, like the birth of any of my cousins or siblings, but never before like this.

Have you ever been on stage before? In front of lots of people? You know that feeling you get as you're walking down the stairs of the stage, and you're worried your going to fall, and the croud will laugh and point? I felt that feeling, but like twenty times smaller. It was in the pit of my stomach, and I could feel it beating away. Thump, thump, thump. And when I smiled, it went thumpity, thumpity, thumpity. And I could feel my heart smiling too. And I could feel my soul thumpitying right back at me. It was really hard, and really confident. Right then I found my inside. I had left the shell in the snow, and I took a ride in the sky. And I touched the clouds, and I sat on the moon. But when I got cold, I visited the sun. And I just lived. I felt like my own thumpity. I felt like a smile. I felt like a part of something. I felt loved. I felt full. I felt heat, pushing my cold body. I felt smooth, but not flat. I felt soft, and open. I felt.

There's no other way to put it besides I felt like a thumpity. Moving and flying, living and smiling. And on this snowy day, on this freezing day filled with shivers all around, I wish that everyone, someday, can find their thumpity. Can feel hope and love. And maybe, even take a trip to the sky.

Titles

OK, the only reason I titled this blog "Titles" is because of the poem below. You should understand in just a second... or not... I don't know. Maybe, but then again, maybe not...

Oh, who cares, just read the poem.

Titles are pointless.

They serve no purpose.

Cliche and cheesy,

boring and draggy,

titles just bore a reader.

Titles discourage people,

and make them put down a piece.

They are too short,

and too simple,

too plain and flavorless.

Because they're no fun,

titles are just dumb.

OK, I know that if you write a title right, then it should pull the reader in, but the way I see it, titles are just a sneek peek at what you are about to read. If a person really is interested, then they should just read the piece. I don't think that people need to be treated like babies and have to be encouraged to read something. It's like when you parent tells you to do something. When you're young, you don't understand that you're probably going to get in trouble for not doing what you were told to do. But once you get older, you know what to expect, you know what's coming. I just think it's pretty dumb to treat older people like that. And so, for my reading teacher, I will say this:

The significance in this poem is that people these days don't know how to properly create a title, and therefore no longer serve any point at all. If you're going to do a job, do it right the first time, not the second, because by then, you have already ruined it.

Are you happy Mr. R?

My Brother

My tiny, tiny little brother is just so annoying. I wish that he could just learn to be quiet.

Questionable

I couldn't tell what to expect.
Your face was blank,
yet you held your hand out,
there for me to grab.
You asked me before if I trusted you enough.
I said yes then,
and I'll say yes again.
I'll hold your hand,
and I'll hold it tight.
But I'll keep my eys open and my feet on the ground.
Just in case later you decide to let go,
I'll be ready to stand up,
and dust myself off.

Racetrack

I'm tired of dealing with this.
I'm going to withdraw from the race.
I will slowly come to a hault.
Mid-track,
I'll be done.
My engine won't start up again.
Cars filling in the space in front of me.
Because I've finished.
I'm not happy with what I've accomplished,
but I'm to tired,
too feeble.
Just as I'm about to make a decission,
stay or go,
a car will hit me in the rear.
So it won't matter anyway.
I've already crashed,
I'm broken now, and I'm actually done now,
no matter what choice I was going to make.
I'm being dragged away,
the crowd keeps on cheering for the other cars.
They don't care that I got hurt.
Me or my driver.

No Title

Deep down,
do they really understand?
Do they really know what I'm feeling?
Probably.
Otherwise they wouldn't do what they do...
right?
They wouldn't.
They couldn't hurt me so bad...
could they?
But really.
Deep down,
do they truly understand what I'm going through?

God, oh God

God oh God,

why would you make me so lucky?

God oh God,

it is you I look up to.

God oh God,

let me thank you again,

for giving to me what was given to me.